


Song for the Salamanders

by underthatnight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, College Student Castiel, Coming of Age, F/M, Family Conflict, Fluff and Angst, High School Student Sam, Identity Issues, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Minor Dean Winchester/Aaron Bass, Minor Injuries, Minor Ruby/Sam Winchester, Sexual Content, Singer Cas, Social Anxiety, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:49:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthatnight/pseuds/underthatnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does it mean to grow up? When do you find out who you are, what you stand for? How do you use your voice? </p><p>Sometimes you don't get answers to these questions, and sometimes it takes a little help from others to figure these things out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue Bugs and Beer Bottles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first try at writing fanfic, so please be patient with me. I'm not sure yet how often I'll update...I'm just going to post the first chapter for now and see how this goes. Let me know if you have any advice or suggestions for a first-time fic writer!
> 
> Chapter warnings: social anxiety, alcohol use as a coping mechanism, and description of minor injury

“ _You’re flyin’ high at the show, I’m feelin’ hot to the touch_ ,” Anna sang as she peeled down the highway. Every window of her blue Volkswagen bug was down; even the sun roof was open. Strands of her red hair were flicking like flames in the wind.

“ _You say you’ll miss me the most, I say I’ll miss you so much_ ,” Castiel’s voice rang out the next line of the Lana Del Rey song. Anna was jealous of her brother’s ability to sound good singing pretty much any song in existence. It just wasn’t fair. He was blessed with the voice of an angel, and although Anna could carry a tune fairly well herself, she was always envious of her little brother’s talent.

Anna reached out and turned the music down. “So, Cassie,” she began as she grinned impishly at her brother in the passenger seat, “glad that you decided to go to school with your favorite sibling?” Castiel raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Anna, I’m going here because they have an excellent pre-med program. It is merely a coincidence that you have already been attending the university for three years now,” Castiel explained coolly. Anna rolled her eyes. “I didn’t hear you protest the favorite sibling part, so I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was going to enjoy having Castiel at college with her during her senior year. She absolutely adored him.

She glanced over at her brother and noticed that he now seemed uneasy. Suddenly, her tone became somber as she spoke. “Castiel? Do you even _want_ to be a doctor?” Castiel opened and closed his mouth, words stuck on the tip of his tongue. He sighed and turned his head to the open window away from Anna. “Anna,” he began, unsure of how to respond. “You know I don’t have much of a choice. And I really wouldn’t mind being a doctor. It’s a noble profession,” he spoke out the window.

Anna pushed her bright yellow sunglasses up to rest atop her head so that she could take in the full look of her brother, unfiltered. “That’s bullshit. You have a choice, you just won’t choose what you really want.” Castiel slowly turned his head to meet her eyes. “Anna, please,” he said with his big blue eyes begging her not to get started on a conversation he clearly didn’t want to have. Anna sighed and succumbed to his implicit request. “Okay, okay. Forget I said anything,” she dismissed. Castiel’s lips twitched a slight smile, thanking her for being compliant. Anna decided she wouldn’t push him now, but she wouldn’t avoid the topic forever.

Castiel leaned forward and turned the volume up on the radio, filling the car once again with the sound of Lana’s hypnotic voice. It didn’t take long for Anna and Castiel to continue singing along, this time in unison. “ _I can see my baby swingin’, his parliament’s on fire and his hands are up_.” Anna followed along the sharp curve of the road, turning them into direct sunlight. “ _On the balcony and I’m singing, ooh baby, ooh baby, I’m in love_.” The heavy orange light pooled into the vehicle and warmed the skin of its occupants.

They drove off into the sunset pretending as if this were a movie with a perfect ending.

In truth, it was only just the beginning, and it was far from perfection.

\--

Dean Winchester leaned his forearms into the railing of the bridge, looking down at the raging river below. Rain was pouring down on him. He held a beer bottle loosely in his hands over the railing, swirling the last drop of booze around in the bottom. He sighed, unaffected by the downpour. His fingers released the bottle, and it shattered once it hit a rock protruding from the rush of water under the bridge. He watched as the river swallowed the fragments of broken glass and swept them downstream.

Dean Winchester had had a pretty shitty day. He woke up to a note from his father explaining that he had a case to work on and  would be out of town for an unknown amount of time. Would it really have killed the guy to tell his son this in person? Whenever John Winchester said he would be on a case for “an unknown amount of time”, it usually meant that he wouldn’t be back for months. Which also translated into “Dean, you’re in charge and I expect you not to screw anything up while I’m gone”. And although Dean didn’t mind taking care of the house and looking after his little brother, Sam,  he wished that he could just be a fucking kid for once. He wanted to go out and have fun. He wanted to have _friends_. He was nineteen years old, but most of the time he felt like he was thirty. Dean Winchester never really did have a childhood.

His mother died when he was four. Dean’s father, who was a police officer at the time, went crazy after the death of his wife. He quit his job, dropped his two sons off on a family friend’s doorstep, and drove off to God knows where. John Winchester didn’t return for his sons until Dean was eight, and he returned as a stranger. John was nothing but rough edges and a chilling disposition. He was anxious and drunk and stubborn as hell. He had also started to work as a private investigator. John gathered up his sons and took them with him to tour the country, picking up investigation jobs wherever he could and leaving the boys alone in whatever motel room they were staying in. Dean was always left in charge. "Take care of Sammy," his father would tell him before he'd head out on a case.

Dean never knew exactly what his father did for those four years that he and Sam lived with their surrogate uncle, Bobby. He wasn’t sure that he really wanted to know, though. Whatever happened to his dad made him the ghost of a man Dean once knew.

And now, it wasn’t that Dean was simply pissed that his father left him and Sam again without warning. It was that he was disappointed and embarrassed. He just wanted more than anything for his dad to stay around for more than a damn month. When they moved down the street from Bobby in June, John seemed like he was serious about staying in the town long-term. The man had actually bought a house. _A fucking house_. For the first time in years they weren’t living in a motel or bumming it in a friend’s place. They had their own house, and it was starting to feel like a home. Their father was cutting back on drinking and even looking in the fucking newspaper for local job postings. He enrolled Sam in the local high school, and he helped Dean get a job at Bobby’s garage as a mechanic. He was finally starting to try to go back to normal, or at least as normal as their family could get. That’s what Dean thought, anyway.

So yes, Dean was disappointed that his father had taken a case again for the first time in weeks. He was disappointed that his dad didn’t mention that he was still willing to leave to pursue an investigation, even though he had now established a seemingly permanent place of residence. And most of all, Dean was embarrassed. He was embarrassed that he let himself believe it was different this time, that his father was actually going to change for the better. Dean hated himself for being so foolish, so stupid. He always let himself get his hopes up that he would, at last, have a normal life. But it was always just wishful thinking; things would never change with his dad.

After waking up to news of his dad’s sudden departure, Dean’s day continued to get worse. He found himself in a fight with Sam about something stupid. It didn’t really matter what they were fighting about, it was petty and unimportant, yet Dean just couldn’t stop himself from getting angry at Sam for no particular reason. Dean decided that his frustration with his brother was probably residual from the dad-leaving incident earlier in the day. The argument ended with Sam slamming the front door and storming off to his friend’s house down the street. Dean then grabbed the keys to the ’67 Impala his father let him drive and walked out the door shortly after Sam left. He needed to go for a drive or _something_ to calm himself down.

But that lead to the third crappy event of the day. The Impala got a flat tire, and Dean had to stop right on the bridge. Fixing the flat tire wasn’t a problem for Dean. He could fix a flat in his sleep. The problem was that he just lost the desire to even try at this point. The universe was obviously not on his side today. Dean finally moved himself from the edge of the bridge and grabbed another beer from the passenger seat of the car. At least he had stopped and bought some drinks before the tire incident. And thank God that the man behind the counter at the liquor store was too dumb to notice his ID was a fake. Dean was grateful that _some_ part of his day went smoothly.

His clothes were now completely soaked through, but the rain was summer-warm, so It didn’t bother Dean much. At this point, he didn’t really give a fuck about anything. He popped the cap off another bottle and decided that this was a good time to get drunk.

\--

When Anna and Castiel arrived in town, they were greeted by rainy weather and the approaching darkness of night. Anna helped Castiel move the last of his things into his apartment, then she left him with a kiss on his cheek and headed to her home across the river.  She had only been gone an hour when Castiel looked down at his ringing phone to see her name lit up on the screen.

“Hello?” He said, unamused.

“Hi again, little brother,” Anna started.  “I know you just got settled in, but I wanted to call you in a pathetic attempt to get you to participate in some social activity this evening. Apparently we’re having a party at the house and it’s the perfect opportunity for you to make some friends for once in your life.”

“Anna,” Castiel whined, “you know how I feel about parties…and large groups of people in general.”

“I know, I know, but you can’t be a recluse your entire life, Castiel. I’m trying to help you!”

“I don’t know, it’s not really my thing,” he refuted as he paced the tiny kitchen in his apartment.

“Come on, at least think about it? Parties are fun, Castiel! You get to meet so many new people and indulge in the liveliness of drunken youth,” Anna persuaded.

“But I just moved in. I still have a lot to unpack,” Castiel added, eager to provide another excuse.

“You can unpack all day tomorrow! Trust me, you _need_ to go to this party. We can hang out together some more and make out with hot guys. Plus, free booze. Please at least consider coming,” Anna begged.

Castiel sighed. He really didn’t like going to parties. He always felt like he didn’t really fit in, and the idea of being surrounded by so many strangers gave him anxiety. Plus, he definitely wasn’t interested in getting drunk and hooking up with strangers. The idea of spending time with Anna was appealing, but he had just spent the last five hours in the car with her. And he knew she would probably spend a maximum of five minutes with him before she ran off with her friends to go dance with frat guys and play some obnoxious drinking game.

Castiel did want to make friends, he really did. He just didn’t want to make friends at a party. But on the other hand, he didn’t feel like arguing with Anna when she was genuinely trying to help him break out of his shell. He knew she meant well. Anna was always trying to help her socially inept little brother fit in.

“Okay, okay. You win. I’ll think about it,” Castiel caved.

“Oh thank God! I thought I was going to have to drive over there and drag you to the party against your will,” Anna admitted.

“I didn’t say yes, Anna. I said I’d think about it,” he reminded her.

“Okay, well try to think faster because people are starting to get here now,” she scoffed impatiently.

Castiel made his way to the armchair in the living room. He collapsed onto the worn cushions and let his limbs sprawl out in every direction. It was times like these when Castiel wished he could just be absorbed into the chair’s cushions. He wanted to be consumed by the warmth and familiarity of the old recliner that used to sit in his father’s den. He wanted to get lost in it, to disappear from the real world completely. Castiel would be perfectly content with staying on that armchair for the rest of his life.

He let the idea of going to the party sift through his mind some more. He knew it would mean a lot to Anna if he came, and it wouldn’t be all that bad, right? He could always just leave if he was really having a miserable time or if the whole scene got to be too overwhelming for him. He couldn’t believe he was going to talk himself into doing this. If anyone else were asking him to go, it would be a definite no. But this was Anna. His big sister, his only sister. She was the one who was always looking out for him and tried so hard their whole lives to make Castiel like all the other kids. Unfortunately, Castiel was never like all the other kids, but he appreciated Anna’s attempts. Somehow he felt like he owed it to Anna to at least give the party a try, just this once. Just for her.

He gave a long sigh before he finally responded. “I’ll go to your party, but if you leave me alone with a drunken stranger trying to get in my pants, I’ll never forgive you,” he said sternly.

Anna smiled on the other end of the line. “I won’t leave you with any creeps or pervs, promise! Unless they’re hot,” she added defiantly.

“ _Anna_ ,” Castiel hissed, now very annoyed with his sister.

“Oh, it was a joke! Lighten up, Castiel! I’m not gonna let you get raped or anything. I’m pretty sure that would make me the worst sister ever. Tonight is about getting you out of your comfort zone, but not pushing you too far. I just want you to be a little more social. Who knows, you might even make a friend or meet someone _special_ ,” she teased.

“Whatever,” Castiel deadpanned.

“You’re so lame sometimes, but don’t worry, I still love you. I’ll pick you up in ten?”

“Sounds good, I’ll just throw something on.”

“Bye, Castiel. You won’t regret this, I promise.”

\--

Castiel was regretting this. The music was obnoxiously loud and booming through his entire body. He could barely hear himself think, let alone here what Anna was trying to say to him over her shoulder. She had his hand tight in her own and was leading him through a dark room packed with sweaty bodies. Besides the strong scent of perspiration, the room smelt of beer and cheap perfume. The bodies pressed against him as Anna continued to pull him through the crowded room. Castiel noticed red solo cups littered on top of the mantel of the fireplace, and on top of every other available surface of the room as well. “I don’t know about this, Anna,” he shouted at the back of her head.

She turned her head to meet his eyes and a wild smile spread across her face. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun! Just relax,” Anna shouted back. She now stopped at the entrance to a kitchen and Castiel halted at her side. She picked up a shot glass and downed the clear liquid fearlessly. “What was that?” Castiel said, leaning in towards her ear so he didn’t have to yell. The corners of her mouth twisted upward again. “Hmm, I’m not sure, but it’s got some zing to it,” she said easily as she raised another glass and took a second shot. She then snatched a can of beer from the refrigerator. “Here you go. Bottoms up!” She popped open the tab of the can and handed the beer to Castiel. He reluctantly took it and gave her a feeble smile in return. “Uh, thanks,” he tried to be grateful as he took a sip from the can.

The air in the house felt sticky and ten times warmer than the air outside. Castiel was regretting his wardrobe choice as he noticed most of the guys at the party were wearing Bermuda shorts. Anna had scoffed when she saw Castiel’s outfit when she came to pick him up. “You look like you’re going to work nine to five at the office, not going to a party. Here,” she huffed as she loosened Castiel’s tie, unbuttoned the top buttons of his dress shirt, and untucked the shirt from his slacks. “Now try rolling up your sleeves or something,” she suggested. Castiel had done so, and looked meekly at Anna for approval. “Hmm, definitely better. You kind of have that Ren McCormack from _Footloose_ vibe going on. I’ll take it,” she admitted, and with that they had left for the party.

“Anna! Who is this?” I bubbly voice rang from behind Castiel, making him jump. He turned to see a girl with dark black hair falling over her shoulders in long, loose curls. She wore thick rimmed, black glasses that matched the sleekness of her tight black dress. Her lips were coated with a shimmering red lip gloss, and she pressed them together while she looked Castiel over.

“Cecily, this is my brother, Castiel,” Anna introduced the two. “Captain Sexy here is your brother?! Oh Anna, you never told me your brother was totally hot!” Cecily giggled, almost sloshing the drink in her red solo cup onto the floor. Castiel could feel his cheeks turning red. “Down, girl! He’s only a freshman. Plus he likes boys,” Anna said it so nonchalantly. Castiel snapped his head towards her and his eyes widened. He wasn’t really keeping it a secret that he was gay, but it just didn’t seem like something you’d just tell someone you just met. Not in the way Anna told Cecily anyway. She said it as if she was telling Cecily Castiel’s major or something. It’s not like people introduce their heterosexual brothers to their friends and mention that he’s straight right off the bat. You just don’t typically announce someone’s sexuality as you are introducing them to a stranger.

Cecily just continue to giggle. “You’re a freshman? Could’ve fooled me. You look like a junior at least with that scruff you’ve got going there,” she said as she playfully poked Castiel’s cheek. She must not have caught Anna’s remark about him “liking boys”, either that or she really didn’t care. Castiel’s entire face felt hot, and he knew he was most likely red as a tomato. Anna rolled her eyes. “Welp, I’mma go dance now. It was nice to meet you, Casseel,” Cecily slurred. She winked at him, then swaggered off into the living room with her drink still firmly in hand.

“It’s Castiel,” he called after her, a little too softly and a little too late. Anna laughed, “So now you say something? Try talking to people before they walk away next time.” Castiel shook his head, “I didn’t really have anything to say to her. She was a bit,” he tried to think of the word, “forward.” Anna rolled her eyes for probably the fifth time since they arrived at the party. “Okay, yes, but in her defense it’s just because she’s a flirty drunk. She normally isn’t like that.” This is what frustrated Castiel. What was the point of meeting people at parties if they were all alcohol-induced alterations of themselves? Shouldn’t he get to know people when they are sober, so he can know what they really are like? He would never understand.

\--

An hour later, Castiel still hadn’t finished his beer and still hadn’t held a conversation for longer than five minutes at a time. He had a splitting headache and Anna had now abandoned him to dance with one of the Bermuda shorts guys. The last hour had certainly been interesting, but definitely not Castiel’s idea of fun. He decided he was going to head home and get some sleep so he could be productive and unpack tomorrow. He squeezed past the strangers dancing on top of each other and made his way to Anna. Her red hair was beginning to frizz from the humidity in the room, but she still looked gorgeous. She was bouncing with the beat of the music, but froze when she noticed her brother standing in front of her. “Castiel!” she smiled and wrapped her arms around him. Castiel returned the hug. “Anna, I think I’m going to go home. I’m not really into this party and I’ve got stuff to do in the morning.” Anna pulled herself away from him. “But the party just started! It’s not even midnight yet,” she protested. But even through her drunken stupor, Anna could tell Castiel was really miserable and desperate to leave. “Fine, do you need a ride?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, I know the way back to my house. I don’t mind walking.” Anna blinked a few times, processing his words. “Okay, if you’re sure. Be safe, and call me when you get home.” Castiel promised to call her, then pivoted on his heels and squirmed his way out of the sea of strangers.

\--

It was a relief to feel the cool breeze against his skin, drying the beads of sweat that hung on his brow. Castiel was thankful that it had stopped raining, and he took in the scent of the soggy earth. He could still hear the music booming from Anna’s house when he was halfway across campus. He couldn’t wait to get back and take an aspirin for his headache. He wanted to collapse onto his armchair and fall asleep, and he once again wanted to be absorbed into the cushions.

The party was a bust, and he really shouldn’t have been surprised that he didn’t have a good time. Parties just weren’t his thing. In fact, most things that people his age enjoyed weren’t _his thing_. It kind of bothered Castiel. Why couldn’t he just relax for once in his life? Why did his chest get tight and his throat get dry every time he tried to socialize? Well, that wasn’t quite true. Those symptoms were only present in social situations such as parties, or speaking in front of the class, or trying to make small talk with someone who clearly wasn’t interested. Castiel had no problem talking to people when they needed his help. It was easy to forget to be anxious around strangers when he was helping them.

It gave Castiel a sense of purpose. Helping others, even in the smallest of ways, made him feel like he could do _something_ right. He could make a stranger smile. He could make someone’s day better. Knowing he had that power made him feel elated and even somewhat important. But the downside to only being able to escape his shyness in order to assist others was that the interactions were usually short and didn't even include an exchange of names. All of the kindhearted people who had called upon him in their time of need just left with a grateful smile and the words “thank you”. Castiel wished he could befriend those people. He wished it didn’t always end with “thank you”. He didn’t want to get to know the people lurking in the dark corners at parties, half-lost to alcohol and half-caring about holding a conversation.

He wanted to get to know the woman who asked him for directions to the nearest gas station. He wanted to get to know the man that he helped pick up his dropped papers from the sidewalk. He wanted to get to know the people who believed in and relied on the kindness of others. But no, these meetings were too brief and too hurried and Castiel would never even know the stranger’s names. He would never befriend them like he hoped he would, like strangers in movies befriended each other upon a short and spontaneous meeting.

Castiel was walking on the bridge over the river that ran through campus when he noticed a figure that appeared to be limping towards him. The figure was a man staggering away from a car on the side of the road with his nose pointing toward the ground. He was not much taller or much older than Castiel himself. The guy stopped in his tracks when he glanced up and saw Castiel approaching him. Castiel stopped as well, and watched the guy sway on his spot before he collapsed to the ground. Castiel gasped, momentarily paralyzed by the shock of the man’s fall. He blinked and shook off his paralysis, then ran up to the figure crumbled on the ground under the amber glow of a street lamp.

“Are you okay?” Castiel hunched down beside the man and hovered his hands over his body, unsure of what to do. The guy rolled over onto his back and brought a hand to his nose. There was a stream of blood flowing from his nostrils. The dark blood, both on the guy’s face and in the small pool beside his head on the sidewalk, shimmered under the light of the lamppost. The stranger’s eyelids were heavy and he looked confused. Castiel gripped the man’s upper arm , the one that was not currently holding his hand to his nose, and pulled him up to a sitting position. He then helped him lean back against the railing that lined the bridge. “Wha-what?” he finally spoke in a deep, broken voice. He blinked a couple of times into the light, trying to focus on Castiel. He suddenly winced, as if he was just now feeling the pain of his injured nose.

Castiel could smell beer on the guy’s breath. He was obviously drunk and unaware of what was happening. “Move your hand,” Castiel instructed. To his surprise, the man complied. Castiel inspected the stranger’s nose, and thankfully didn’t see any signs of breakage. “I don’t think it’s broken,” Castiel reported. Castiel then pulled off his tie, scrunched it up and, without a second thought, held it gently against the man’s nose to catch the blood that was still oozing from his nostrils. It didn’t even bother him that he was getting the stranger’s blood all over his hand.  “You should probably lean your head forward,” he suggested softly. And even though he only appeared to be half-conscious, the guy once again did as told.

The two men sat there for several minutes with nothing but the sound of music beating relentlessly in the distance from Anna’s house. Castiel wasn’t sure what to do at this point. Should he take him to the hospital? Call 911? Try to walk him somewhere? Castiel looked over at the old muscle car that had been parked on the bridge when he and Anna drove past earlier. Had this guy been in the car that whole time? Castiel removed his tie from the guy’s nose and noticed that the bleeding had finally ceased. He placed his now blood-drenched tie on the sidewalk beside the stranger.

The guy slowly raised his head, and his eyes suddenly widened when they met Castiel’s. Castiel could see that his eyes were an olive green color. “Dad?” he coughed and rocked slightly. Castiel placed a hand gently on his shoulder to steady him. “No, no my name is Castiel. You were walking and you just collapsed. You had a bloody nose, but I don’t think you broke anything. I think the bleeding has stopped now, too. Can I help you walk somewhere?” Castiel tried to be soft so that he wouldn’t frighten the him. No, it wasn’t easy for him to talk to strangers at parties, but when a stranger needed help, Castiel was suddenly a very friendly person.

“Shit,” the guy mumbled as his eyes relaxed and his lids fell closed again. “Dammit, I have to fix my baby.” He attempted to stand up with Castiel’s hand holding him loosely now, but his knees buckled and he began to fall to the ground again. “Whoa, easy there. Is that your car?” Castiel said as he nodded toward the Impala. “Yeah, is-isn’t she pretty?” The guy said with a drunken smile. He blinked and his heavy eyes seemed to finally take in Castiel’s, processing the image before them. “Hey,” he giggled, “you’re kind of pretty too.” Castiel blushed and turned his head away from the stranger. “Um, thank, uh, thank you,” Castiel stuttered, trying to dismiss his words and focus on what to do. He finally faced the guy again. “Hang on,” Castiel said as tightened his grip on the stranger’s upper arm and pulled him upright before he could slump over and hit the sidewalk. He then draped one of the stranger’s arms over his shoulders and heaved him up fully onto his feet. _Now what?_

“Dean?!” A voice called from behind Castiel. He turned to see a boy looking about fourteen years old at the end of the bridge. An expression of relief swept over his face as his eyes fixed on the stranger in Castiel’s arms. The kid raced over to Castiel and the injured body at his side. “Oh thank God he’s not dead,” the boy sighed, breathless as he came to a stop next to Castiel. He studied the figures before him. “Dean! What the hell, man?” The guy apparently known as Dean made a low growling noise in the back of his throat. Castiel told the kid about Dean’s fall and his bloody nose. “I don’t think it’s broken though, and the bleeding has stopped now,” he repeated his diagnoses to the teenager.

“Could you help me get him into the passenger seat? Shit, I’ve never seen him this bad before. Thank you so much, uh…”

“Castiel,” Castiel offered as he began to drag the man toward the muscle car. “But, uh, _Dean_ here said that he needed to fix the car? I don’t know what happened.”

The kid frowned, and approached the car to figure out what was wrong. Castiel followed behind him, moving slowly with Dean’s weight against his side. There apparently wasn’t anything visually wrong with the car. “Dean, dude, your car is fine,” the lanky kid scoffed. Dean shifted a bit in Castiel’s grasp and lifted his head. “Ohh yeeeah, I ah’ready fixed the tire,” he slurred, "furrgot 'bout that." The kid rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Castiel. I came home a couple of hours ago and I couldn’t find him anywhere. We kind of got in a fight earlier, so I wasn’t too worried when he didn’t answer my calls. I figured he was just avoiding me. But then it started to get late and, you know. I went looking for him.”

Castiel nodded in understanding. The kid smiled in return.

“Anyway, thanks again for helping him. I swear he isn’t always a wandering drunk,” the kid defended as he slung his brother’s other arm over his own shoulders. The boy had a baby face and was fairly gangly, but he was as tall as Castiel and stronger than he looked. After a bit of struggling, they finally managed to get Dean belted into the passenger seat.

“Are you even old enough to drive?” Castiel asked the kid. He grinned pathetically. “Hey, I’m fifteen. I have a learner’s permit, and I’m just going to drive him straight home. We live right down the road," he hesitated. "Please don’t call the cops on us,” the boy begged. Castiel smiled back at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to call the police. Just be careful,” he said sincerely as he watched the boy climb into the driver’s seat and close the door behind him.

“We owe you big time. Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“No thanks, my apartment is just right at the end of the bridge there,” Castiel explained, pointing lamely down the road.

“Okay, well thanks again, Castiel,” the teen replied through the open car window. And with that, he shifted the car into drive and began to roll down the street in the direction Castiel had come from.

“You’re welcome. I’m happy to help,” Castiel called after them, a little too softly and a little too late, as always.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Anna and Castiel sing at the beginning is "West Coast" by Lana Del Rey. Also, the lyrics I have may not be exactly correct...those first two lines were a little different for just about every source I checked with.


	2. Mom's Not Here to Help You Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided I will try to update once a week. For now, I'm planning on posting a new chapter on Sundays. Please let me know what you think and if you have any advice to help me improve my writing. Thanks for reading!

Dean would kill him if he were sober right now. He would absolutely murder him for driving the Impala, especially since Sam didn’t even have his license yet. But Dean was drunk off his ass right now, so he just groaned sleepily and squirmed in the passenger seat during their five-minute ride from the spot they left Castiel to their house.

Sam Winchester threw the car in park and removed the keys from the ignition. “Dean? Are you awake?” He asked his brother, who was now suddenly limp in the seat beside him. His jaw was slack and his eyelids were shut, but his left eyebrow twitched ever so slightly in response to his brother’s voice. Sam huffed and unbuckled his seat belt first, then his brother’s. He pulled himself out of the car and made his way around to retrieve Dean from the passenger seat.

Sure, hauling his brother out of the Impala and into their house was going to be a pain in the ass, but Sam really didn’t mind all that much. Dean was always taking care of him, for as long as he could remember. In fact, Sam felt like Dean was more like a dad to him than his actual father was. Sam didn’t mind returning the favor at all. Not that he could ever make it up to Dean for everything he did for him. Dean basically raised Sam, after all. But still, Sam kind of enjoyed being the one to take care of his brother for once, even if he didn’t like the reason behind this change in circumstances.

Dean’s eyes flicked open when the car door beside him creaked ajar. “Sssammmy?” he slurred as he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. Come on, let’s get you inside. You’ve had one hell of a night, Dean. Time to sleep it off,” Sam smiled as he took his brother’s nearest elbow and started to pull him from the Impala. Dean didn’t fight him, and he even managed to remove himself from the Impala and make his way into their home with minimum support from Sam. Sam was relieved that his brother was being so compliant in his drunken state.

The next morning was rough. Sam woke up to the sound of stomping footsteps in the kitchen and clanking dishes. No, shattering dishes. He was fairly certain he heard a plate collide with the wall. Dean was muttering something to himself, a majority of his chatter comprised of swear words. Sam kicked off the bed covers, exposing his skin to the cool morning air hanging in his bedroom.  He shuddered against the chill as it met his warm body. Sam groggily yawned and rubbed at his eye with the back of his hand, while using the other hand to sit himself up. “Dean? What the hell are you doing?” He called from his bed, voice raspy from sleep. There was no response, just more muttering, stomping, and clanking.

Sam wasn’t surprised when he entered the kitchen to see Dean tossing dishes haphazardly into the sink, and the fragments of a cracked ceramic plate on the floor below a dent in the adjacent kitchen wall. “And then he just goes and leaves us again? Fuck him. Who the hell does that?” Sam could make out Dean’s words now that they were in the same room. “Dean?” Sam tried again. Dean jumped, then took a second to collect himself before slowly turning from his place at the sink. The first thing Sam noticed was a dark bruise across his brother’s nose. He thought about mentioning it, but decided Dean probably wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.  “Dammit, Sammy. Give a guy a warning next time, will ya?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Sorry,” he surrendered, not bothering to mention that Dean was the one who woke him up with all his racket in the kitchen. “Do you need help with the dishes?” Sam definitely wasn’t about to bring up the events of the previous night, or mention anything about their father. Dean already seemed to have their dad on his mind anyway. No need to fuel the fire.

“No, I got it. Thanks anyway,” Dean sighed. “Aren’t you late for school?” Sam crossed his arms and gave Dean an incredulous look. “Dean, it’s Sunday.” Dean paused for a moment to process this, his eyes flicking from Sam, to the ceiling, then back to Sam again before he answered. “Right, of course it is.” And with that he turned back toward the sink began to wash the dishes in the most aggressive manner he could manage. Sam didn’t even think it was possible for someone to wash dishes so violently.

\--

“Dean. His name was Dean,” Castiel told Anna for the third time since she arrived to help him unpack. They had already moved in the furniture and larger items earlier in the week. Now all that was left to do was unpack dining ware, clothing, books, and other smaller items.

“Right, right. Yeah, sorry kiddo. I don’t know any Deans,” she apologized as she placed a handful of forks in the drawer beside the kitchen sink. “Although, I could do some snooping if you had a last name to go with that,” Anna offered, raising her eyebrows at Castiel suggestively.

“I don’t know his last name. And besides, I’m not trying to dig up information on him,” Castiel scoffed. “I was just wondering if you’d heard of him, that’s all.”

Anna folded her arms across her chest. “Well, I’ve never met or heard of anyone on campus named Dean. I’m sure he is okay though, Cassie. Didn’t you say his brother took him home?”

Castiel sighed. “Yeah, but his brother is only fifteen, Anna. And he was in pretty bad shape.”

Anna lips curled into a mischievous smile. Castiel could see the gears grinding in her brain. She was making connections, thinking hard about Castiel’s words and tone. Castiel had seen that look on her face before. Anna was deducing. And suddenly, he knew what she was thinking; what assumption she was coming to. Before he could speak and interrupt her from vocalizing her thoughts, Anna giggled.

“So, exactly how hot was this _Dean_ guy?” She made sure to emphasize his name, watching closely as Castiel shuddered ever so slightly at the sound of it. The stupid smile was still plastered across her face.

“I mean, he wasn’t…this has nothing to do with…” Castiel trailed off, suddenly becoming very aware of how warm his face felt. He hated that Anna could see him blushing.

“Oh, Cassie! Don’t think you can lie to me,” she teased, playfully batting her eyes at her little brother.

Castiel swallowed and diverted his eyes from Anna’s. He tried to find somewhere else to look, anywhere else to look. His eyes finally decided that his hands, resting on the kitchen counter, were interesting enough, and he busied himself with picking at a hangnail on his thumb. Anna just stood there, waiting patiently for him to respond.

It didn’t take long for Castiel to succumb and break the demanding silence.

“Okay, I do find him attractive, but I know what you are thinking and I do not have feelings for him. He was completely intoxicated and unaware of what was going on. I doubt he even remembers the incident,” Castiel blurted out. And what he said was true. Castiel thought Dean was insanely attractive, despite his drunken eyes and bloody nose. However, Castiel was not attracted to Dean. He needed to know more about someone and have a strong connection with them before he could develop feelings for them. All Castiel knew about Dean was that he had a younger brother, drove a 1967 Chevy Impala, and lived close by. Oh, and he apparently liked to drink beer.

“That’s right, you don’t believe in love at first sight,” Anna huffed, unfolding her arms.

“No,” Castiel confirmed, “it’s impractical. Like I said, I am simply concerned for the well-being of a stranger. Besides, why do you seem so eager for me to have a crush on him anyway? Do you really want your brother lusting after some drunkard he found on the side of the road?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “No, but you never know. We don’t know his story. Maybe it was just a bad night,” Anna said, actually sounding sincere. But then her tone was back to mocking within a second. “Anyway, if you start seeing him around, you’ll be in trouble. We both know that you have a thing for the broken ones.”

Castiel blinked, unsure of what she was insinuating. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. You have a big heart, Castiel. You love to help people. In fact, I don’t think you can help yourself from helping others. Anyway, my point is that every relationship you have ever been in started off with you wanting to help someone or feeling sorry for someone. You meet someone broken and you try to fix them, and along the way you develop a crush,” Anna explained matter-of-factly. “I’ve noticed your pattern, Castiel. You have a fetish.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow. “My pattern? What pattern, Anna? I’ve only ever dated two people in my entire life!” He threw his hands in the air and pivoted on his heel to head into the living room. Anna followed close behind, not ready to drop the topic.

“True, but they were similar situations. You dated that girl in sixth grade after she broke her arm in gym class. You carried her books to class for her and took notes for her and she dumped you once her cast came off,” Anna began. She plopped down onto the couch next to where Castiel was now sitting. His eyes were closed and he was rubbing his temple, but Anna decided to continue her rant anyway. “And then you dated that guy after he got fired from his job. You helped him find a new one, and then a couple days later you guys broke up. I think there is a cycle somewhere here.”

Castiel removed his fingers from his temple and instead pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes still closed. “Perhaps your point is somewhat valid,” he admitted. “But honestly, I will probably never see Dean or his brother again. The only reason I ended up dating those people in the past was because I was already friends with them.” Anna shook her head, understanding. “I see. Well, just be careful anyway. I want to see you in a happy, healthy relationship one day. Try not to fall for someone who is going to take advantage of your kindness and then dump you once your services are no longer needed.”

She smiled teasingly and patted him on the knee in an attempt to downplay her bluntness.

“Gee, thanks,” Castiel moaned.

\--

Dean finished washing the dishes and made his way to the bathroom to check on the color-changing bruise that was now consuming his nose. He sighed of relief when he noticed that the bruise wasn’t as big as it felt.

“At least it’s not broken,” he muttered to himself, turning his head in multiple directions to better inspect his wound.

What had happened last night? Dean remembered drinking. And falling down. His nose must have hit his arm or something as he landed, because he was fairly certain it would be broken if it had hit pavement. He thought he remembered seeing blue eyes. Bright, blinking blue eyes that were filled with concern. He fought to recall more, but he couldn’t picture the face that belonged to those eyes. Dean decided to shake it off. He must’ve been confused. Sam must’ve found him and gotten him home somehow. It didn’t matter now.

Dean ran cool water from the sink and gently splashed some on his face. He was feeling a little less volatile now that he had broken a plate and had a full-on grump-fest in the kitchen.

He looked up into the mirror again at his reminder of the previous night’s events. What a great fucking souvenir. He grabbed the hand towel hanging next to the sink and began to dab his face delicately, avoiding the bruised area as he did so. Dean paused to stare at his reflection. What was the point of being mad about his dad leaving? He had a job to do. It was stupid for Dean to expect him _not_ to go. Besides, being angry about it just wore him out and made Sam worry about him. It was time for Dean to stop sulking and put on his big boy pants.

He decided that he would slap on a smile and attempt to get through the duration of his father’s absence. For Sammy.

\--

“And then this morning I wake up to the sound of him chucking dinner plates at the kitchen wall. I’m telling you, he is beyond pissed. He wouldn’t even talk to me about it. Not that I brought anything up…but still, I’m worried about him. He didn’t even ask where I was going when I left this morning. Hell, he didn’t even say a word about me driving his precious car last night. I was sure he was going to slit my throat for that one,” Sam explained to Ruby as he pulled a bulky textbook out of his backpack.

“Seriously? Wow, he really isn’t handling your dad hopping town well at all, is he? I mean, hasn’t your dad left before though? I thought he traveled for work?” She inquired, looking up at Sam with a furrowed brow. Sam nodded. “Oh yeah, dad used to skip out all the time without forewarning. Sometimes for months even. But I guess he had been around for longer than ever this time. Plus, I think he was looking at job postings here in town. Dean must’ve thought he was going to quit the traveling private investigator stuff,” Sam replied.

Ruby and Sam had three classes together and they lived in the same neighborhood, so it didn’t take them long to become friends and study buddies. Ruby had an older sister who attended the local university, and her parents were usually gone on business trips, so she could relate to Sam with the whole older-sibling-slash-parent thing. Her sister was three years older than Dean, and about to graduate college in the spring. Sam had only seen her a couple times since his family moved to the neighborhood in the summer, but Ruby was always talking about how her sister made her dinner every night and helped her with her homework and watched _New Girl_ with her. Ruby and her sister were close.

Ruby tapped her fingertips against the cover of her biology book. “Maybe he _promised_ Dean he wouldn’t leave again? Nothing pisses people off more than broken promises. Especially when it’s your own father who breaks the promise,” Ruby suggested. Sam shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, but you could be right. Anyway, enough about my family drama, let’s get this bio assignment over with so we can enjoy the rest of our weekend.” Ruby nodded in agreement. They had just cracked open their books when the front door opened and Ruby’s sister waltzed in.

“Oh, hello. You must be Sam,” she smiled as she walked from the doorway into the dining room where Ruby and Sam were trying to start their schoolwork. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she added as she hung her purse on the back of one of the dining chairs. Sam smiled back at her, trying to remember her name. “Uh, Sam, this is my sister, Cecily,” Ruby helped him out. “Right, Cecily. Nice to finally meet you,” he said as Cecily pulled out the chair on the other side of Ruby and sat herself at the table with them. “I’ve heard a lot about you as well.”

Cecily’s smile grew bigger, and she scooted her chair in closer to them. “Really? What does she say about me?” Cecily half-whispered, leaning across Ruby as if she wasn’t even there so that she could better direct her question at Sam. “Nothing really, I just mention you now and then,” Ruby interrupted, pushing her sister out of her personal space. “Anyway, how was the party last night?” Sam didn’t think Cecily’s face could light up any more, but she proved him wrong. “Oh Ruby, it was amazing. So much fun. I haven’t danced that much in months. It was at Anna and Claire’s house… you remember Anna, right? Red hair? Drop dead gorgeous? It was my first time seeing her since last semester. God, I missed her. She’s a great friend,” Cecily rambled. Sam tried not to look completely annoyed with her. She was nice, but she was a talker, and he really wanted to just get his biology assignment completed before Dean started to wonder where he went.

“Oh and I met her little brother, too. He’s a freshman this year, I think she said. But oh my God, Ruby. He was a major babe. Had the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. His name was really odd though. I think it was Cassiel or Casteel or something like that.” Sam’s ears suddenly perked up. “Castiel?” he offered. Cecily snapped her fingers, “Yeah! That’s it! Do you know him?” Sam shook his head. “No, not really. I just, uh, talked to him once. You don’t forget a name like that,” Sam simplified his interaction with Castiel, not wanting to get back on the topic of his brother’s escapade. Cecily hummed in agreement, then looked down at the textbooks and papers on the table in front of Sam and Ruby. “Oh! Well I’m sorry to interrupt your study time. We’ll talk later, Ruby.” Cecily pushed herself out of her chair and awkwardly shuffled her way out of the dining room. “Nice talking to you, Sam,” she called over her shoulder as she rounded the corner. “You too,” he called back.

\--

Sam hesitated for a moment at the front door of his house. He wasn’t sure how to go about handling whatever state Dean might be in. He could still be cursing and angrily thrashing about the house or just going about his business, pretending like nothing was ever bothering him. Sam wished Dean would be the former, because then at least he would be venting some kind of emotion. Maybe he’d actually talk to Sam about what’s on his mind if he was spitting-mad. That was just Sam’s wishful thinking, though.

Sam held his breath as he twisted the doorknob and made his way into the house. “Hey, Sammy. Where the hell did you go?” Dean said from the couch. His eyes were fixed on the television, watching what appeared to be _Star Trek_ reruns. So, Dean chose to put up his wall. Sam could either play along or try to break that wall down, but for now he chose to roll with it. Maybe he could pick up some pie from the store after dinner and get Dean in a good mood before he tried to make him to talk. “I was just across the street at my friend Ruby’s house. We were working on this assignment for biology class,” Sam explained. Dean nodded his head, eyes still glued to the television screen.  “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

Sam paused in the entry way for a moment, waiting for Dean to say something else. _Anything_ else. The words never came though, so Sam just kicked off his shoes and headed straight for his bedroom. A part of him still half-expected Dean to say something to him as he walked away. _What do you want for dinner, Sammy? Hey, come take a seat and watch with me. So, is this Ruby chick hot?_ Anything. Sam tossed his backpack onto his bed and let his body fall forward onto the mattress as well. He suddenly felt uncontrollable frustration. He was frustrated with Dean, but he was mostly frustrated with his dad for making Dean behave this way. For leaving them again. For not being there for them whenever they needed it. For pretending like he was ready to finally settle them down somewhere and get a job in town, so maybe they could function like a semi-normal family for once.

Sam couldn’t even remember his mother. He was only six months old when she passed in a house fire. Everything Sam knew about his mom he had heard from Dean. Dean had held on to the only photo of their mother that survived the fire so that Sam could see how beautiful she was. He’d tell Sam about the times she would sit on the porch with Dean in the summer and help him collect ants in a jar so he could start his own ant farm. He’d tell Sam about how she would sing Beatles songs while she cooked dinner or did the laundry. He’d tell Sam how she would tuck him into bed every night and kiss him softly on the forehead, always telling him that angels were watching over him.

In a way Sam was jealous that he didn’t get the time with his mother that Dean had, but he knew it also made the loss of her hurt him a little less. How could you truly miss someone you never knew, right? Sam was also envious that Dean was able to remember a time when their father wasn’t the broken man he is today. Dean didn’t talk much about what their dad was like before their mom died, but he did tell Sam that he wasn’t always so argumentative and demanding. It was like something inside him snapped when she died. He dropped the boys off at Bobby’s and disappeared for four years. When he came back, he was different. He drank too much and never slept and paced around at ungodly hours mumbling to himself. Unfortunately, that was the only version of their father that Sam really remembered.

Sam let out a long sigh, his face still buried in his mattress. Getting worked up about the situation wasn’t going to help anything. He rolled onto his back and brought his hands up to his temples. He really should be working on his other homework, but he wasn’t feeling up for it. He suddenly had an impulse to stay like this, sprawled out across his bed, for the rest of the evening. Sam raked his fingers through his hair, noticing now how long it was getting and trying to recall the last time he had a haircut. “Hey, Sam,” he heard Dean chime from the living room. Sam sat up eagerly. “Yeah?” He called back with uncertainty. He then heard Dean’s heavy footsteps heading down the hallway.

Dean entered Sam’s room holding his leather jacket in his hand and wearing a puzzled expression on his face. “Why is there a bloody handprint on my jacket? I know I fell and got a nosebleed and you were just trying to help, but didn’t you think to wipe off your hand on something before you touched my favorite jacket?” Sam raised an eyebrow and stared at the blood stained onto the jacket in the shape of a hand. “That wasn’t me,” he said simply. Dean took a step forward. “What do you mean it wasn’t you? Did I…” he began, but Sam interrupted. “No, there was this guy. And, get this, his name was _Castiel._ Don’t you remember?”

Dean stared up at the ceiling and frowned, looking as if he was trying hard to recall the events of last night. “ _Cas-tee-el?_ ” he said slowly, tasting the name on his tongue. “Not really, no. Who was he?” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me, he was just standing there holding you up when I found you. He helped me get you in the Impala so I could take you home,” Sam slipped, immediately regretting the mention of Dean’s car. “Wait, you drove my baby?!” The volume of Dean’s voice escalated and his eyes grew wide. Sam smiled sheepishly. It was going to be difficult getting out of this one. “How do you think I got you and the car home? I found you drunk with blood on your face and your body being supported by some random stranger on the side of the road. I wasn’t about to ask him to help me walk you home,” Sam explained. “Plus I didn’t think you’d want me leaving your baby on that bridge. Man, you must’ve really been out of it. You really don’t remember any of that?”

“Not really. I do remember what happened before though,” he said with some certainty. “The Impala got a flat tire, but I was feeling shitty and didn’t want to fix it right away so I decided to drink. And then I was kind of drunk, but I somehow was able to change tires. I didn’t feel like going home yet though, so I kept drinking and drinking and that’s where things start to get fuzzy.”

Dean blinked and looked down at his jacket in his hand. He thumbed over the dried blood, then looked back up at Sam. “I’m so sorry, Sammy. I should’ve just fixed the tire and came home,” Dean changed the subject. Sam’s stomach twisted into a knot. Did this mean Dean might actually talk to him about why he was so upset? Would he finally get things off his chest by communicating with Sam, instead of washing his problems away with alcohol and pretending everything was peachy keen the next morning? “I guess I do remember that guy now. At first I thought, I thought he was,” Dean hesitated, “someone else. I guess when I woke up this morning I just assumed it had been you. Now that you mention it though, I do remember hearing him tell me to lean forward and stop touching my nose or something.” Dean actually cracked a smile then. It lasted for only a fraction of a second, but Sam noted it anyway. _Dean had smiled._

“His voice was low and tough-sounding though, so I should have known it wasn’t you,” Dean teased. Sam grabbed a pillow off his bed and chucked it at his brother. “Shut up,” Sam cracked a smile, “You’re just jealous ‘cause you know I’m going to end up taller than you. I haven’t finished my growth spurt yet!” Dean rolled his eyes and bent down to retrieve the pillow from the ground. “In your dreams, bitch,” he sneered as he returned the attack, sending the pillow flying across the room and hitting its mark as it collided with Sam’s chest. “Jerk!” Sam cried back.

No, Dean apparently wasn’t going to spill his guts to Sam, but at least he was talking to him about _something_ now.  Dean honestly did seem to be in a better mood, though. It wasn’t as if he was just pretending for Sam’s sake anymore. Perhaps he would be okay. Perhaps he was truly moving on from whatever anger and frustration he was feeling. Sam could only hope.

\--

Dean lied awake that night staring at the ceiling. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the blue eyes that belonged to the stranger who had helped him. Castiel. Dean still couldn’t picture the man’s face. He wondered why Castiel even stopped to help him anyway. Dean wasn’t sure that he would go running to help some crazy, drunken guy he found wondering the streets. It would seem too dangerous. He probably would’ve just called the cops if he was Castiel.

Dean sat up in his bed and checked the time. It was one in the morning. Dean would normally have to work at the shop the next day, but Bobby had called earlier and told him he didn’t have to come in. He suspected Sam might have mentioned to him that Dean didn’t take their dad leaving well. Bobby was probably trying to give Dean a bit of a break. Considering this, Dean decided to get up do something. He hated just lying there, wide awake.

He cracked open his door as quietly as possible, and crept into the kitchen. The first thing Dean Winchester usually did when he couldn’t sleep was fix himself a late-night snack. After staring into the fridge like a zombie for a good ten minutes, Dean finally snapped out of his daze and grabbed some leftover lasagna from dinner. He could hear Sam snoring from his bedroom, so he assumed it was safe to use the microwave without waking him. Once his meal warmed up, Dean made himself comfy on the sofa and proceeded to step number two: channel surfing.

_Suddenly he is four years old again. It’s a month before his mother’s death. Mary Winchester walks into the living room to see her eldest son playing with a toy fire truck in the middle of the room. Dean freezes when he notices his mother is watching him. “Hi, Mommy! Wanna play?” Dean smiles as he lifts up a nearby police car and offers it to his mother. She laughs, and the sound makes Dean feel fuzzy inside. Mary turns on the floor lamp and moves to take a seat next to her son on the floor. “Dean honey,” she begins, “why are you in here playing? It’s nighttime, sweetie. You should be in bed.” Dean giggles, “But Mommy, I’m not sleepy! I wanna play!” He starts to push his fire truck around the room again, leaving miniature tire tracks indented in the carpet._

_Mary sighs, and gets up from the floor to go into the kitchen. At first Dean is unaware of her absence. He is busy driving the fire truck under the coffee table and behind the sofa. He is making faint siren sounds, attempting not to wake the other members of his family. He especially doesn’t want to wake baby Sammy. Baby Sammy cries when he is woken up, and Dean doesn’t like it when Sammy cries._

_Dean stops pushing his truck when he notices his mother has left. “Mommy?” he calls, but there is no response. He abandons his toys and runs into the kitchen, little bare feet pitter-pattering across the floor. He sees her standing at the counter, putting the lid on his favorite blue sippy cup. Dean waddles up to her and tugs on her silky, white nightgown. “Mommy? What're you doing with my cup?” he asks, wide-eyed. Mary smiles down at him. “I made you a snack,” she says simply. She then takes the sippy cup and a bowl of carrot sticks and walks out of the dark kitchen with Dean trailing behind her like a little duckling._

_She sits down on the sofa, and Dean crawls up into her lap. “Those for me?” he asks. Mary nods and hands her son the sippy cup. Dean drinks without questioning her. The warm milk floods his tummy, and soon his whole body feels warm and relaxed. Mary turns on the television and flips through channels, landing on a program about outer space. They both munch on the carrot sticks as the man on TV tells them about stars. Dean drinks up the last of the milk, and he feels his eyelids getting heavy. Mary soothingly pets his head, and Dean curls into his mother’s body. He can smell the scent of lavender on her skin, and he just feels so safe and warm. She wraps her arms protectively around him and plants a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, Dean. I love you,” she whispers. Dean yawns. “I wuv you too, Mommy.” His eyelids finally float shut._

Dean blinked and the scene vanished. He was back in the new house and was watching some infomercial selling vacuums. Dean reached for the remote and turned off the TV. Before he could think, his legs were moving and he was entering the kitchen. He discarded the now empty lasagna bowl in the sink and grabbed his keys off the counter. Next thing he knew, Dean was out the door and behind the wheel of the Impala.

It was now two forty-five. Dean leaned against the familiar railing, looking over the same bridge in the place he stood the night before. This time though, he was completely sober. What was he doing here? The last time he was here, he ended up on the ground with a bloody nose.

Dean watched the river flowing below. The water looked black, even under the glow of the streetlight. In a way, Dean thought it was very calming. He wondered what it would be like to just float down the river.

Suddenly, Dean heard footsteps approaching. He turned around to see a young man in a trench coat walking on the bridge along the opposite side of the road. The man slowed down as he got closer, and he stopped once he was parallel to Dean and the Impala. His head was tilted to the side, as if he were perplexed.

“Dean?” He said uncertainly. His gravelly voice sounded familiar.

Dean’s heart began to race. Who was this guy and how did he know his name?

“Um, y-yeah? D-do I know you?” Dean stuttered. He frantically looked around for something to defend himself with in case the man was dangerous.

The guy was now crossing the street, and as he entered the pool of light from the nearest streetlamp, Dean could properly see the details of his face. He had messy, dark hair and prominent cheekbones.

And a pair of familiar, bright blue eyes.


	3. Beignets are the Best Bedtime Snack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I'm posting this late! I foolishly said last time that I would try to post on Sundays, but I completely forgot I was going to be out of town this past weekend. Anyway, here is the new chapter! I wanted to go ahead and get it on here in case there were any eager readers, so it hasn't been thoroughly edited yet. If you want to wait until it has been better looked over, I plan on checking it tomorrow night when I have more time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! As always, please let me know what you think. 
> 
> I will think of some way to make this up to you guys!

“Hello, Dean,” the young man beamed, suddenly standing inches away from Dean. When did he get that damn close?

“Uh…” Dean tried to form words, but his mind was still trying to process what was happening. He ended up just standing there dumbfounded.

“Oh, I suppose you don’t remember, considering you were rather intoxicated. My name is Castiel Shurley,” he said with a slight smile. “I’m the one who helped you when you fell in this precise location last night.”

Dean blinked and let his eyes quickly look Castiel up and down. His eyes focused again on Castiel’s face. Shit, the guy was actually really good-looking. His facial features were angular, casting shadows under his sharp cheekbones. In contrast, his wide eyes seemed as big as the ocean and as bright as stars. And although the guy just appeared out of nowhere at two forty-five in the morning and was standing far too close to Dean, he came across as friendly opposed to creepy. Dean could feel his muscles relax as his mind failed to detect any threat.

“Oh yeah, Castiel, right,” Dean began. “Sam mentioned you helped me out. Thanks, dude.”

Castiel squinted his eyes. “Sam? That must be your brother’s name then?”

Dean nodded his head. “Um, yeah. Sam’s my little brother.” He suddenly considered what Castiel must’ve though about him the other night. “Thank you so much again, man. I’m so sorry you had to find me like that. I swear I’m not always a drunken idiot roaming the streets like a creeper,” Dean hunched his shoulders forward and flashed his most sincere, apologetic smile.

“It was no problem. I couldn’t have just left you there after you fell. How are you doing now?” Castiel inquired, studying the bruise on Dean’s nose. He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes again, waiting for an answer.

Dean suppressed the urge to cover his nose with his hands. “I’m fine now. A little bruised, but nothing’s broken. Could be worse.”

Castiel exhaled, looking as though he was greatly relieved. “That’s good to hear. What are you doing out here now?”

“I, uh, couldn’t sleep. Came out here to think I guess,” Dean mumbled, turning to look over the railing at the river once more. He could feel Castiel’s gaze still fixed on him. He swallowed.

“So Cas,” he said to the river when Castiel failed to speak. Did he just call him Cas? Where did that come from? “What brings _you_ out here at this time of night?”

Castiel turned to look down to the river as well, his shoulder brushing against Dean’s in the process. The guy was literally standing _right next_ to Dean now. What the hell was he doing? Dean decided to ignore it for the moment.

“I couldn’t sleep either. I start classes tomorrow and I’m extremely nervous,” Castiel confessed. He stood ridgedly beside Dean, eyes flicking disinterestedly down at the black mass of water rushing beneath them. Dean could feel the anxious energy radiating from Castiel through the millimeter of space between their shoulders.

Although it was awkward, something in Dean found Castiel’s close presence comforting. Shit. Not this again. Dean turned sideways to face Castiel, leaning the side of his body at an angle against the bridge railing. Castiel turned to face him as well. They were now face to face, noses inches apart. Dean’s mouth suddenly felt dry. All he could see were Castiel’s big blue eyes. He glanced down and his eyes caught sight of Castiel’s lips. Why did it have to be his lips? They were so damn close. Fuck, what the hell was he thinking? _Why_ was he thinking this?

Dean hadn’t looked at a guy’s lips like this since he was seventeen. _And that was just that one time_. _A one-time thing_. Dean was not gay. He had just been…curious, that’s all.

“Um, Cas?” Dean gulped. “Personal space?”

Castiel looked down at the space, or lack thereof, between them.

“Oh,” he blushed, and took a step backwards. “My apologies.”

A part of Dean suddenly regretted saying anything. Although Castiel oozed anxiousness, his close presence also brought on a warm, heavy feeling. It made Dean feel as though he was wrapped in a plump down comforter than had been freshly removed from the dryer. But as soon as Castiel stepped back, just that one tiny step, the feeling was gone. Interesting.

“Thanks, uh, sorry,” Dean apologized, although he wasn’t sure why. “Anyway, what are you so nervous about? It’s just like any other first day of school, right?”

Castiel dropped his head and scratched the back of his neck. “Actually, I haven’t had a real first day of school in a long time. I’ve been homeschooled since I was twelve,” he admitted.

“Oh, so this is your freshman year then? Not gonna lie dude, you look like you’re at least twenty-two with that peach fuzz,” Dean chuckled, and he actually reached out and poked Castiel’s cheek. No, he needed to stop. Dean needed to stop right now. Why the hell was he acting like some giddy schoolgirl? Who the fuck just pokes the face of someone they barely know, anyway? He decided to blame his out-of-character behavior on his sleep deprivation.

Castiel’s face turned crimson and his eyes darted back to the ground. “So I’ve been told. I really need to shave,” he mumbled. Castiel then grabbed an end of the belt of his trench coat and twisted it nervously around his fingers. Great, Dean scared the poor guy. Dean tried to think of something else to say to calm Castiel down, to make him look less flustered. The words that came out of his mouth weren’t what he expected.

“So, I was going to head over to this bakery-café-place at the airport. It’s open twenty-four-seven and I’m kind of friends with the owner and, I don’t know, I just figured if you can’t sleep and I can’t sleep, maybe we could hang out for a bit? Get some late-night comfort food?” Dean was pretty sure he didn’t take a single breath as he said those words. “I mean, if you want to come that is,” he added awkwardly. Even though he had just eaten leftovers not too long ago, he was craving something sweet. Dean was pretty much constantly in the mood for food, anyway. It was like he was always hungry.

Castiel’s hands stilled, and he slowly looked up at Dean through his thick, dark lashes. “That actually would be really nice. Thank you,” he smiled shyly and dropped the end of his belt so that it dangled back at his side.

“No problem. Now we can just start all over and forget the other night when you had to pick my sorry ass up off the pavement,” Dean laughed. “Speaking of which, I never formally introduced myself, did I? I’m Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you,” he reached out his hand.

Castiel took it hesitantly. “Hello, Dean. Pleased to meet your acquaintance,” he replied, his smile growing wider. For someone who looked so timid in the moment, Castiel gave a good, firm handshake.

Then, without warning, Castiel’s face twisted into a saddened expression. “Oh, I just realized that I don’t have any money with me. And I’m still wearing pajamas,” he sighed.

Dean looked down and realized that Castiel was indeed wearing plaid blue pajama pants and a grey t-shirt under his tan trench coat. He also had major bedhead, hair sticking up in every direction. But then, Dean remembered what time it was and looked down at himself and smiled. How did he forget?

“Cas, don’t worry. I’m in pajama pants, too. No one is going to care. And like I said, I know the owner. He gives me free food all the time,” Dean offered. “You can always pay him back later if it bothers you though.”

Castiel considered this, then nodded his head in agreement. “I suppose you’re right. Well, I’m onboard then. Let’s go!” His face lit up, and his eyes were brighter than Dean thought possible.

Dean led the way over to the Impala, and Castiel climbed into the passenger’s seat. The whole situation felt so comfortable for Dean, which also made it feel so odd at the same time. Dean couldn’t figure out why he was acting like this. He barely knew this Castiel guy, yet here he was, sitting shotgun in the Impala, accompanying Dean on a trip to a café at three in the morning. What had gotten into Dean?

He told himself it was because of all the stress of his father leaving again. Leaving Dean to take care of any and all responsibilities while he was away. It must be making Dean behave spontaneously. But in reality, deep down inside, the reason Dean was so eager to make Castiel see him as more than a clumsy drunk was because he craved friendship.

Dean had been in town for months now and had failed to make a single friend his age. Sure, Sam’s company was nice, but Sam had school and had new friends of his own. And yes, Dean had Bobby and a couple other adults in the town he had befriended, but it wasn’t the same as having a friend his age to hang out with. And now, as if it were by fate, he just happened to run into Castiel again. The kind, shy stranger who helped him when he didn’t deserve it.

Yeah, the dude was a bit strange, but he seemed cool. Plus, it seemed like Castiel wanted to be friends with Dean too, considering he just willingly got in the car with him. Now all Dean had to do was keep himself from thinking too much about Castiel’s blue eyes and untamed hair and lips that were too close and…damn it. Seriously, what was up with Dean tonight? Maybe he’d be back to normal if he just slept through the entire next day.

\--

Castiel hoped that Dean couldn’t hear his heart beating fast and heavy in his chest. Was this really happening? Castiel wasn’t one to go on late night, or technically early morning, adventures with people he just met. Yet here he was, sitting next to Dean Winchester in a ’67 Impala flying down the highway. The windows were down, and Dean was blasting classic rock music. The whole scene vaguely reminded Castiel of driving with Anna. Dean was singing along to some song Castiel had never heard before, but unlike Anna, Dean’s voice was deep and rough and mostly off-key. Castiel didn’t mind though. He just bobbed his head with the beat of the music and laughed whole-heartedly when Dean tried to hit the high notes.

Dean joined him in laughter, then looked over and met Castiel’s eyes with his own. His lips parted to reveal a toothy grin. “I know, I’m terrible. Laugh all you want, but I can’t help it, you know? Just gotta rock out sometimes,” Dean defended, but Castiel completely understood. Although his musical interests were not the same as Dean’s, he definitely felt the need to belt along when he heard his favorite songs. “No, I understand. I’m the same way,” he shouted over the music. Dean raised an eyebrow. “Then how are you not singing along to this?”

Castiel blushed and looked down at his hands folded in his lap. “I don’t know the words,” he said, barely loud enough for Dean to hear.

Dean’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You don’t know this song? Man, it’s Boston! This song is great,” Dean whaled, making a sharp right-hand turn onto the exit ramp. The music built up, and once again he was singing.

“ _It’s more than a feeling_ ,” Dean’s voice boomed, “ _when I hear that old song they used to play_.”

Everything felt surreal. Castiel didn’t even care that he had his first class in five hours. He wouldn’t be sleeping if he were at home anyway. Here, in the Impala with Dean, all of his worries about starting school faded away. It was the perfect distraction from his anxiety, and Castiel wished he could just stay in this moment forever. Just him, his new friend, and Boston. Well, he assumed he and Dean were friends now. He didn’t know many people who invited non-friends to go across town with them at three in the morning for baked goods.

It took them twenty minutes to reach the small airport on the outskirts of the town. Right off of the entrance to the airport were several small shops and food places. Dean led them into a place called Bourbon Street Bakery, which was a bit like a family-owned version of Panera Bread. They were greeted by the sweet smell of coffee beans and warm bread. There was no one else in café besides the man behind the counter. The man was big and muscular, but had a soft expression on his face. He was stacking muffins in a display case on the counter when he finally looked up to see who had walked in.

A smile broke across his face, and the man suddenly looked like a giant teddy bear. “Well hey there, brother!” He spoke with a Cajun accent.

“Hey, Benny!” Dean called back. Benny made his way around the counter and strode over to give Dean a hug. The older man clapped his hand on Dean’s back.

“Good ta see ya, brother. What brings ya ‘ere t’night?” Benny pulled away, then his eyes landed on Castiel. “And who’s this ‘ere?”

Dean turned to face Castiel, waiting for him to introduce himself. “Oh, my name is Castiel. Nice to meet you, Benny.” He reached out a hand, but Benny pulled him into a bear hug instead.

“Castiel! That’s some name you got there, brother. Pleasure ta meet ya,” Benny laughed.

“Yeah, Cas and I are looking for some late-night snackage. I figured you’d be here, plus this is one of the few places I know that’s open all night,” Dean explained.

“Sure, sure. What can I get for ya boys?” Benny asked, moving back around to the other side of the counter.

“Can we have a plate of beignets? And uh, whatever else you want, Cas,” Dean added. Castiel lit up with Dean’s continued use of his new nickname. No one had ever called him Cas before. His family called him Cassie on occasion, but it was usually in a mocking sort of way. Castiel only liked it when Anna called him Cassie. When she said it, the name came across as endearing more than anything.

“I’m fine with just the beignets,” Castiel agreed. Benny nodded, then proceeded to get to work on their order.

“And Benny, is it cool if we pay you back another time? We don’t have money on us now,” Dean admitted. Benny just shook his head. “Sure, brother. Don’t worry ‘bout it! This plate’s on the house.” They both thanked him for his kindness, then found their way to a table in the corner of the café.

“Thank you for taking me here, Dean.” Castiel grinned. “I truly appreciate it. I don’t feel nervous about school at all anymore.”

The corner of Dean’s mouth curled into a crooked smile. “No problem, Cas. You definitely look a lot more relaxed now,” he noted. “Glad you’re feeling better.”

There was a brief moment of silence, where anyone could tell that both of them wanted to say something to the other, but couldn’t find the words. Castiel finally broke the silence. “So Dean, what year are you?”

Dean’s eyebrows knitted together and he frowned. Did Castiel say something wrong? Suddenly, Dean’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped like he had an epiphany.

“Ooohhh, you mean what year in school? No, I don’t go to the university,” Dean confessed. “But if I did, I’d probably be a sophomore. I’m nineteen years old.”

“Oh, do you just live in town then?” Castiel inquired, head tilted sideways.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I’m actually working at Singer Salvage off of Rocklin Road. My family lives on Grant Street,” he explained. “We just moved here in June, actually.”

“I see,” Castiel said. He broke his eye contact with Dean and began to look around the café while he tried to think of something else to say. Luckily, Dean picked up the conversation.

“So, what are you studying? And what time is your first class tomorrow? You’re going to be dead, dude,” Dean laughed.

Castiel told Dean about how he was in pre-med and studying to one day become a doctor and take over the family practice. He told him how his uncle currently owned the practice, and had no kids of his own to continue it, so he agreed to take on the role. Benny interrupted for a moment to get their drink orders, and soon he came back with a cup of coffee for Dean, hot cocoa for Castiel, and a plate full of beignets. He also sat two miniscule bowls on the table. One was filled with chocolate sauce and the other with raspberry.

They took a break from their conversation to indulge in the treats. Castiel had never had beignets before, but he soon discovered all the wonderfulness that he was missing. The pastries were soft and warm and sweet. The only thing Castiel decided he didn’t like about them was how messy they were. After only two bites of his first beignet, his fingers were coated with powdered sugar. Castiel decided that he also didn’t like having to choose between the chocolate and raspberry sauces, but then he saw Dean drizzle both toppings over his beignet and concluded that that was probably the best way to solve his dilemma.

 After each man got a beignet in him, they began to fall back into easy chatter as they finished the rest of the plate. The conversation flowed well and felt comfortable, even with their pauses to swallow their food or sip their beverages. Castiel was glad that Dean was leading most of the dialogue, since he wasn’t the best when it came to small talk. Dean told Castiel that his family moved around a lot, and this was apparently the first time they lived in their own house in fifteen years. He also mentioned that his dad had recently left town abruptly for work, and Dean didn’t know when he’d be back.

Castiel was surprised that Dean was telling him all this, so he decided to share a bit about his own family. He didn’t want to overshare though, especially when he had only just met sober Dean an hour or so ago.  He decided to tell Dean about Anna. Talking about his sister proved to be a good choice, because Castiel found himself rambling on for the first time in his life. He explained how Anna was always looking after him. How she would tuck him in to bed at night and take him to the park to play on the swings when they were little. How she always tried to help him come out of his shell and make friends. He explained that she was a senior at the university, and she lived in a little yellow house on Vine Street with her best friend Claire.

“Sounds like you and your sister are really close,” Dean pointed out. Castiel nodded. “Yeah, Anna and I have always been close, but she is still rather annoying sometimes,” he joked, and he was surprised to find Dean actually _laughing_ at his remark. “Yeah, that’s exactly how it is with me and Sammy,” Dean managed to say between chuckles. Castiel was very pleased with himself for getting Dean in such a good mood, especially when what he said really wasn’t _that_ funny. This Dean was very different than the one he met the other night.

“Speaking of annoying siblings, this one time when I was probably, I don’t know, ten years old? Sammy was six and he had this little toy keyboard that made animal sounds…” Dean launched into a story from his childhood, which Castiel really wanted to hear, but he soon became distracted by his thoughts. He had picked up on Dean’s use of “Sammy” instead of “Sam”, and it reminded him of how Anna called him “Cassie”. Although sometimes the childlike nicknames were used in jest, most of the time they were accompanied in an affectionate tone. Dean’s current use of “Sammy” had the latter tone, and it made Castiel grin stupidly with admiration. He thought it was very sweet.

And suddenly, Castiel couldn’t stop thinking about how adorable Dean looked telling his story. Telling his story about his annoying little brother. Dean’s green eyes were sparkling, and his mouth seemed as though it couldn’t rid itself of that smile if it tried. Castiel had thought Dean was attractive before, but now he could feel himself developing an actual attraction. The blond haired boy was just so magnetic. Something about him just drew Castiel in, both mentally and physically. He thought back to earlier in the night when he had stood incredibly too close to Dean. He hadn’t even realized he was that close until Dean brought it up, and although it embarrassed him, Dean didn’t seem too put off by it. After all, he did invite Castiel to come here with him despite the incident, didn’t he?

Castiel was in the middle of a daze, dreamily counting the freckles that dusted Dean’s cheeks and nose, when his object of study broke into a booming laugh once again. It made Castiel jump, and he suddenly remembered that Dean had been telling him a funny story about six-year-old Sam being annoying. Castiel began to laugh too. At first he was forcing the laughter to cover the fact that he hadn’t been listening, but then it became natural. Something about that beautiful, belly-laugh of Dean’s made him erupt into a fit of giggles as well.

Once they began to calm down, Benny approached their table again. “Sounds you two are havin’ a hoot ova ‘ere,” he grinned. He turned to face the green-eyed man. “Now Dean, is somethin’ wrong? Y’all been ‘ere half an hour and you haven’t even mentioned pie yet,” Benny teased.

“Actually, I was going to ask if I could have some to go,” Dean confessed. “Apple please?”

Benny broke into a hardy laugh. “Of course, brother! You’re in luck- I got an apple pie that should be comin’ outta the oven soon. And don’tchya worry about payin’ for this either. It’s my pleasure.” He pivoted on his heel to head back to the kitchen area and fulfill Dean’s request. “But next time ya come ‘ere, you’ll be payin’. I gotta business to run, ya know,” Benny joked, and he laughed as he disappeared through the kitchen door behind the counter.

Dean then turned to Castiel. “So you should know that I have this pie addiction. It’s pretty bad, man. I can never pass up an opportunity for pie,” Dean half-whispered in a mock-serious tone.

“Good to know your weakness. I might be able to use that to my advantage one day,” Castiel smirked. He was pretty proud of himself for coming up with such a smooth response so quickly. This wasn’t like him to be so witty- or maybe he was being a little flirty? Castiel hadn’t actually flirted with anyone in so long, he wasn’t sure he really knew what flirting was anymore. He thought he should maybe try to be more careful with what he says. Although he could feel himself developing a crush on Dean, he didn’t know if he was Dean’s “type”, and he wanted to at least be friends with the guy. He didn’t want to do anything to scare him away.

 “Dammit! This is why I shouldn’t go wandering around town late at night when I can’t sleep! I obviously make terrible decisions and have poor judgment. Can’t believe I just revealed my weakness,” Dean played along. So was this flirting back? Castiel decided it might be wise not to think into it too much, so he just laughed and reached down to eat another beignet. Unfortunately, he realized that there were no more pastries on the plate. When did that happen? He moved his hand instead to grab his half-empty cup of hot cocoa. The warm liquid tasted rich and smooth on his tongue as he sipped from the cup. When he put the drink down, his eyes were greeted by Dean’s green ones. How long had he been staring at Castiel?

Dean coughed and turned abruptly to look out the window. “Oh hey, look! There’s a plane about to take off over there,” he rushed out the words, and jabbed a finger in the plane’s direction. Castiel craned his neck so he could see from Dean’s perspective. There was indeed a plane gaining speed on the runway. Castiel followed the blinking lights that outlined the aircraft and watched in awe as the nose of the plane tilted skyward. Soon, the rear of the plane parted from the runway, and he could almost feel that drop of the stomach that occurred when one was in a plane taking flight. The liftoff appeared to be so effortless and graceful for such a bulky contraption. Castiel had never seen an airplane takeoff as such a beautiful spectacle before.

“I haven’t been on a plane in forever. I kind of miss the experience,” Castiel sighed, eyes still fixed on the plane that was now a tiny, flashing light in the distance.

“Really? You like being in a metal death trap in the sky? I mean, I can appreciate the things. Planes are pretty cool, but I don’t know if I’d ever want to actually go in one,” Dean said, seeming to be taken aback.

“Wait, you’ve never flown in an airplane before?” Castiel asked, dismissing Dean’s criticism.

Castiel could have sworn he saw a faint blush on Dean’s cheeks. “I mean, no. I haven’t really had a reason to take a plane,” he defended.

“But I thought your family moved around all over the country? Surely you didn’t drive everywhere,” Castiel pried. He knew he probably shouldn’t have, but he was honestly curious.

“Oh, but we did, my friend. Winchesters don’t fly anywhere. We belong on the open road,” he grinned, seeming more confident in himself this time.

Castiel could feel the corner of his mouth turn up in a crooked smile. “Well you should take a plane somewhere sometime. The takeoff is much more exciting to experience than to watch,” he advised.

There it was again. Castiel was almost certain Dean had an ever-so-slight shade of pink breech the surface of his cheeks. Castiel suddenly remembered that Dean had referred to a plane as a “metal death trap in the sky”.  Could that mean he was afraid of them?

“Dean, are you afraid to fly in an airplane?” Castiel pressed his luck, not sure what had gotten into him. It was really none of his business if Dean was scared of flying or not, but for some reason Castiel couldn’t resist. He wanted to mock Dean a little and see him get flustered. Did that make him a complete asshole? Castiel wasn’t sure. He was sure, however, that something was definitely making him behave oddly spontaneous tonight. Perhaps it was his growing attraction to his new freckled friend sitting across from him.

Dean was definitely blushing now. There was no mistaking it.

“Hey, man. Those things are unnatural! If humans were supposed to fly, we would’ve been born with wings. You can’t blame me for not trusting those huge-ass hunks of metal to just stay in the sky for an entire flight. It’s witchcraft or something, Cas. Unnatural!” Dean ranted. Castiel felt terrible, but he couldn’t keep himself from laughing. But Dean started to laugh too, and Castiel felt okay. Actually, he felt better than okay.

Then Dean’s laughter was broken by a massive yawn. He stretched his arms into the air as he yawned, and soon Castiel was doing the same. Curse those contagious yawns. Castiel searched the café for a clock and found one hanging next to the giant menu board. It was approaching four in the morning, and Castiel had his first full day of college classes in the morning. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

Dean had watched Castiel read the clock. “Don’t worry, it’s college. You’re supposed to not get enough sleep and come to class half-awake,” Dean assured him.

“But Dean, it’s my first day. Shouldn’t that come later in the semester?” He raised an eyebrow at the green eyed man.

“Well, you’re just being an overachiever then, aren’t you?” Dean smirked.

Before Castiel could respond, Benny was heading their way with a box of apple pie. Dean stood up from his seat, and Castiel followed suit.

“One apple pie, fresh from the oven and packed with care,” Benny announced, and handed the boxed pie to Dean.

“Thanks, man. I owe you big time,” Dean noted as he pulled the older man into an awkward one-armed hug.

Castiel nodded in agreement. “Yes, thank you very much. You’ve been very kind.”

Benny just waved a hand at them. “Like I said, guys. ‘Twas my pleasure! Come by again anytime.”

They started to shuffle out the door, and Benny called to them before he reentered the kitchen. “G’bye, Dean! Nice ta meet ya, Castiel!”

“Bye!” They shouted back in unison, then Castiel added, “Nice to meet you too, Benny!”

And with that they found their way back to the Impala and hit the road. Castiel wasn’t sure about Dean, but he was finally feeling like he could actually fall asleep now.

\--

Dean threw the car into drive and rolled down the aisle of the parking garage. “So Cas, where to?”

Castiel pulled his seatbelt over him and clicked the buckle into place. “Uh, if you go west over the bridge you picked me up on, I live in that apartment complex there by the bridge’s end. It should be your first right turn after the bridge, I think.”

When they exited the garage, Dean changed out cassettes and Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” began to fill the car. Dean was starting to give a speech about the amazingness that is Led Zeppelin when he noticed Castiel was passed out in the passenger seat. They had only been in the car maybe five minutes.

Dean smiled, and thought of how many times Sam had done the same thing. As he drove, he couldn’t help but steal glances at the man slouched in the seat next to him. Cas was momentarily highlighted by the headlights of a passing car. The glow grew and grew as the car approached, and the bright light made the sleeping man look soft and angelic. His chest rose and fell slowly, and Dean became fascinated by how at peace Cas was in deep slumber, considering he was napping in the car of someone he just met in the past forty-eight hours.

Dean tried not to think too much about Castiel after that. He was afraid of where his mind might drift. He didn’t want to find himself thinking about how attractive Castiel was, or how much he enjoyed spending time with him. He also didn’t want to start over-analyzing the events of the evening. He allowed himself for a second to consider how strange it had been. The whole thing felt a little too much like a date scenario opposed to a “bros just hanging out” thing. And Dean had felt so at ease and so willing to share everything with Cas. Things just felt so natural with him.

Dean stopped himself from dwelling more on the subject. Cas was his new friend, that was it. He should be glad that he finally found someone his age to possibly hang out with. Well, that is until Cas started making friends at college. That was sure to happen, and then he would forget all about Dean. Dean was already preparing himself for it, but he figured he should at least enjoy the time he had with his new buddy. And who was to say Cas wouldn’t still want to be friends with Dean, even if he did make other friends at college? Dean was starting to like this newfound optimism, so he decided to push his fears out of his mind and focus instead on the task at hand: getting Cas home so they could both finally get some proper sleep.

They were soon pulling into the parking lot of Cas’ apartment complex. He parked the Impala at the curb by the main door, and gently nudged Castiel’s arm with his elbow. “Hey, Cas. We’re at your place. Wake up, dude.”

Castiel blinked awake, and stretched his arms as far as he could in the cramped space inside the Impala.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep in your car,” he yawned. He unbuckled his seat belt, then looked Dean straight in the eyes. “Thanks so much for, well, everything. It was very nice to meet you free from the influence of alcohol.”

Dean smiled. “No problem, Cas. It was nice to meet you when I could actually form coherent sentences.”

Castiel reached out for the door handle, but then paused and dropped his hand. “Dean, I’d really like to hang out again sometime. I mean, if you’d like to. You’re actually my first friend I’ve made here, and, well…could I give you my phone number? You don’t have to text or call or anything, but that way you have it in case you ever get bored and want to, I don’t know, hang out,” Castiel mumbled, eyes now avoiding contact and hand scratching at the back of his neck.

Dean was secretly relieved that Castiel was offering up his number. Dean was afraid if he offered an exchange of numbers, it might make the events of the night seem even more like a date. Which it wasn’t. Definitely not a date at all. Totally platonic dude-bro hangout time. Dean was making a new friend, that was all. Yeah.

“Um, sure, Cas. Actually, that’d be really great,” Dean agreed. “To be honest, I’ve been here since June, and you’re my first real friend I’ve made here too.”

Castiel smiled, and soon he was reading off digits.

Dean tried to seem chill while he entered Castiel’s number into his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Dean sings is "More Than a Feeling" by Boston.


	4. He Was Dean's Gay Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Minor Dean Winchester/Aaron Bass

Benny cleaned off the table where the boys had sat, wiping the sticky raspberry sauce they had spilt from the surface. He was glad they stopped by. The airport was fairly small and generally not that busy. He didn’t get too much business at this hour, and it was nice to see a familiar face like Dean’s. It was also nice to meet Dean’s friend. This had been the first time Benny had seen Dean hanging out with someone besides his brother. He was happy that Dean was finally getting settled into town and making friends.

Benny had met Dean at Bobby Singer’s auto repair shop. Dean had fixed up his car, and Benny told the boy to stop by his store sometime for some free pie. He was surprised to see Dean in his café the next day, and soon he grew accustomed to Dean’s visits on nights when he couldn’t sleep. That boy would come in and pack away an entire pie when he was craving a midnight snack.

Whenever he’d see Dean around town, he’d stop and say hi. They would chat a bit, and Benny would ask Dean about how things were going at Singer Salvage. He had learned that Dean didn’t really have any friends. He was the youngest guy working for Singer, and he didn’t attend the local college. Benny was happy when he had found out Dean had a younger brother that he got along with. At least he had Sam. And now, Dean had Castiel too.

Benny sighed as he took the empty plate from the table and headed back to the kitchen. He wondered why Dean had that nasty bruise on his nose. He wanted to ask the kid about it, but he seemed to be in such a good mood. Benny didn’t want to risk upsetting him. He thought he ought to call Bobby Singer and make sure Dean was okay. He knew Bobby and Dean were like family. Maybe he could get some answers from him, or at least make sure that the boy was being taken care of by someone.

Yes, Benny would definitely have to give Bobby a call in the morning.

\--

By some miracle, Cas made it through his first two classes of the day without falling asleep. He was rather proud of himself, considering the first day consisted of receiving syllabi and listening to professors drone on and on about their class policies and expectations. It was painfully boring and very tempting to sleep through.

Although he didn’t fall asleep, he didn’t necessarily give his professors his undivided attention either. Cas just couldn’t help it. He even tried _not_ to think about Dean. About his perfect, 100-watt smile. About his collection of freckles on his face. About how he obnoxiously sang along to classic rock while driving. About how he called him “Cas”. The name rolled so beautifully off of Dean’s tongue. It was like the nickname was made to be spoken by Dean Winchester. Cas had decided that he could listen to that boy say his name endlessly.

He was staring blankly at a smudge on the chalkboard in his second class when everyone started getting up. Cas snapped out of his daydreaming, realizing that class must’ve been dismissed. He looked around at the groups of students exiting the room, chatting on their way out. He noticed how some people were already making friends, and here he was, all alone. At least he had Dean. He hoped he had Dean, anyway. He was fairly certain that they were friends now.

Originally, Cas had planned to try to talk with someone in the room before class started, in hopes that he could make at least one acquaintance in each class. However, once he had entered each lecture hall, he was overwhelmed by the mass of unfamiliar faces. Cas had ended up sitting by himself at the end of an empty row each time, fiddling with his phone until the class had started. Maybe he’d feel a bit more social tomorrow.

It was a little past noon when Cas finally found the sandwich shop on campus he was supposed to meet Anna at. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized as he sat down at the table. “I may have gotten a bit lost.” Anna grinned and excused him with a wave of her hand. “No, you’re fine! I should have given you better directions to the place.” Cas smiled back, then looked around on the table. “Um, do I get a menu or something?”

“Oh! No, you order at the counter over there and they bring the food out to you. Don’t worry though, I already ordered for you,” she winked.

“What? You don’t know what I want,” Cas huffed.

“Oh really? When have you ever ordered something besides a BLT at a sandwich place, Cassie?”

Cas turned his head away from Anna. “Okay, maybe you have a point,” he admitted, refusing to make eye contact with her and give her the full satisfaction of being right.

“See! I know you too well, little bro,” Anna laughed as she playfully kicked Cas’ leg under the table. “So anyway, how is your day going so far?”

Cas sighed. “Good, I guess. Really boring. It’s all just going over the syllabus and course policies, so nothing exciting. I’m assuming things will be a little more interesting once I start to actually learn the material.”

Anna nodded. “Yeah, my day has been pretty much the same as yours, actually.”

There was a moment of pause, and during that moment Castiel decided that he wanted to tell Anna about last night. She wasn’t just his sister, after all. She was his best friend.

“I was really nervous about today. I couldn’t sleep last night,” he began, watching Anna’s expression turn to one of concern as he spoke those words. She didn’t say anything, though.

“So I went on a walk, and you’ll never believe who I ran into,” Cas continued.

Anna furrowed her eyebrows. “Who?!” She said eagerly.

“Dean. You know, that guy from the other night who was drunk and I helped him. His car was parked in the same spot on the bridge and he was just standing there, watching the river,” Cas explained. “We started talking and he offered to take me with him to this bakery and…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! You got in the car with that guy?! Cassie, that’s dangerous!” Anna interjected, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah, but he was completely sober! And neither of us could sleep and we had nothing better to do, so he took us to Bourbon Street Bakery in the airport. They have the most delicious beignets there, Anna. We should go sometime,” Cas kept talking in hopes that he could keep Anna from chastising him.

“Okay, pause for a second here,” Anna interrupted anyway. Cas closed his mouth obediently.

“You, Castiel Shurley, my brother, got in the car with a practical stranger last night and went to eat with him at some bakery across town? Come on, Cassie! You can’t tell me you don’t have a huge crush on him now,” Anna smirked and her eyes narrowed.

Cas scrunched up his face in confusion. “Wait, I thought you were just yelling at me? And now you’re prying about my feelings towards this guy?”

Anna shrugged. “Well, it was incredibly stupid and unlike you to just get in a car with someone you barely know. And I am mad about that, but I figure there is nothing I can do about it now. And you are obviously fine, so he must not have been a serial killer,” she concluded.

“So, since you are okay and it is so clear that you have a massive crush on him, tell me all the details!” She scooted her chair closer and leaned in toward Cas, chin resting in her hands and a giddy smile spreading across her face.

Cas rolled his eyes and groaned. “Okay, okay. Maybe I have begun to develop a small infatuation,” he confessed. He could feel the blush on his cheeks, and he shrunk into himself a bit. Anna waited patiently for him to say more. Cas licked his lips and tried to think of where to start. Could he even describe Dean Winchester in such a way that would give him justice? Probably not, but he attempted to anyway.

“He’s actually really nice and charming. He thanked me right away for helping him the other night, and he apologized for being drunk when we first met,” he started. Then, before he could help it, Cas was rattling off all the things he liked about Dean. “I know I already told you, but he is really attractive, Anna. He has blond hair and these impossibly green eyes and freckles that dot his face like stars. He likes classic rock and sings in the car, although he isn’t very good, but he does it anyway. He’s just so funny and charismatic. And when he talks about his little brother, his face just lights up. It is so heart-warming. You can tell he cares a lot about his brother.”

Anna blinked. “Wow, Cassie. I didn’t know it was possible for you to talk that fast,” she teased. “He sounds like a really cool guy. When can I meet him?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Anna,” Cas moaned, “I don’t even know if he…you know…”

“Likes dick?” Anna so blatantly stated with a wicked grin.

“ _Ohmygod_ ,” Cas whined, absolutely mortified. He dropped his head to the table and covered it with his arms, attempting to hide himself from the situation. Anna just laughed.

“What? Okay, okay, I’ll stop! No need to be so dramatic,” she scoffed. Cas lifted his head and rolled his eyes. Why was his sister so much more comfortable talking about his sexuality than he was? It was annoying.

They were interrupted by a server delivering their sandwiches, but soon after they began eating, they continued the conversation.

“So, was there anything he said or did that made you think he’d be interested?” Anna between bites.

Cas shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, he seems so textbook straight, but last night he did seem kind of flirty as well. Maybe it’s just his personality?”

“Castiel,” Anna said as she rolled her eyes, “no one is ‘textbook’ anything. People aren’t always what they seem. If you think he was flirting with you, he probably was. What exactly did he do or say that you thought was flirty?”

Cas’ eyes dropped to his sandwich in his hands, and he tried to think of a specific example. “Well, I don’t remember exactly what he said, but he had a flirty tone most of the night. And he did poke my cheek…that was a bit odd,” he though aloud. “Then again, he did seem uncomfortable when I accidentally stood too close to him. He pretty much asked me to give him some space. I don’t know, Anna. I don’t think I can even tell anymore. I’m probably reading everything all wrong.”

Cas looked up to face his big sister. “Anna, please, I need your help. How does one identify a flirtation?”

Anna wiped her mouth on a napkin. “Well, it kind of depends on the situation. Just try to pay attention more to exactly what he says when he is using a flirty tone. And try to notice his body language. I expect a detailed report after the next time you see him, then I can try to help you.”

Castiel nodded his head. “I can do that. Thank you, Anna!”

She beamed, and Cas decided Anna’s smile was the only smile he thought was more perfect than Dean’s. “No problem, little bro. That’s what big sisters are for.”

Cas was feeling hopeful now. He would be sure to pay more attention next time he saw Dean. He would tell Anna everything and they would figure it out, together. He didn’t want to allow himself to grow a stronger attraction to Dean unless he thought there was a possibility for Dean to like him back. And he definitely didn’t want to risk saying or doing anything that would push Dean away from him. Dean was currently his only friend, and he did not want to lose him.

\--

Dean woke up around noon.

He was grateful that Bobby had given him the day off, considering he would have only gotten three hours of sleep if he had to go into the garage this morning. He had fallen asleep on the couch once he got back from dropping Cas off at his apartment. He had grown tired so suddenly, it was as if he wouldn’t be able to make it to his bed before collapsing.

Dean rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. He let a yawn escape his lips, and stretched his arms out over the arm of the couch. After staring at the ceiling for a moment, he sat up. What had happened last night? Did he really run into Castiel and take him to Benny’s bakery? Did Cas really give him his number before he left?

Dean grabbed his phone off the coffee table and scrolled through his contact list. There was, in fact, an entry under the name “Cas”. For some reason, Dean smiled. Well, Dean could probably guess why he was smiling, but he didn’t want to think too much about it. He pushed himself up off of the couch and made his way to his bathroom. He needed to shower and find something to do to distract himself from thinking of Cas in the way he thought of Aaron Bass in high school. He did not want a repeat of the Aaron Bass incident.

But before he could fight it, Dean was flashing back to that night his junior year of high school.

_Dean is drunk. Not exceptionally drunk, but drunk enough to realize that he is acting strange. He swaggers into the living room of…of…what’s her name again? Of some chick’s house. He wasn’t exactly invited to the party, but no one was making him leave, either. Loud, crappy rap music is playing from the family’s entertainment system. Dean has no idea where the host’s parents are, but it doesn’t really matter. He is here and he is drunk and he sees a pretty blonde girl sitting on the couch making eyes at him._

_Dean doesn’t remember walking over to her, but now he is sitting right next to her. “Hey, I haven’t met you before,” he smiles flirtatiously. “What’s your name?” The girl giggles, and takes a sip from her red solo cup before she answers. “Stacy. And who are you?” She raises an eyebrow and wears an incredulous, yet amused, expression on her face._

_“I’m Dean Winchester. Just moved here two weeks ago,” he introduces himself, and the girl’s eyes grow to the size of saucers._

_“You’re Dean Winchester? Oh my God,” she giggles again, and this time Dean realizes her laugh is high-pitched and annoying. She is hot, but maybe he’s not as into her as he thought he’d be._

_“Uh, yeah. You’ve heard of me?” He inquires, trying to figure out why exactly she is giggling so much._

_“My friend has the biggest crush on you! All I’ve heard the past two weeks was how hot this new kid, Dean Winchester, is. I’ve got to say, he wasn’t wrong,” she winks._

_It takes Dean a minute to process her words._

_“Wait, did you say he? As in a guy?” He is stricken by the idea of a dude having a crush on him. Does he even know any gay guys? Then he realizes he does. Aaron Bass, one of the few openly gay students at their high school, sits next to him in their History class. Stacy must be talking about Aaron._

_“Oh no, he’s going to kill me! I’m sorry, please forget I said anything,” Stacy pleads, and suddenly she is off of the couch and making her way towards the kitchen. Dean is left trying to decide what to do with this information. At first he is just simply taken aback, but then he realizes that he can’t help it that his devilish good looks attract guys too. He accepts it and tells himself to shrug it off. It’s not like he would like Aaron back, right? Dean was definitely very attracted to girls._

_But then again, Aaron wasn’t unattractive, necessarily. Dean thinks about it, and he starts to remember just how good-looking Aaron actually is. He has dark brown hair and big brown eyes and a smile that can light up a room. Not only that, but he is a chill guy. He talks to Dean at the beginning of class and lets Dean borrow his notes whenever he skips- which is frequently. And damn. Now Dean is starting to think maybe he is a little interested in Aaron Bass. And maybe he is a little too drunk, because instead of the idea frightening him, it compels him to get off the couch and go looking for the guy._

_It doesn’t take Dean long to stumble around the corner and see Stacy talking with Aaron by the staircase. Dean gets an impish grin on his face and walks right up to the pair. “Excuse me,” he says directly to Aaron, not even acknowledging Stacy’s presence. The only sober part of Dean’s brain is too slow to stop the next words from coming out. “Word on the street is you think I’m hot.”_

_Aaron’s face turns scarlet, and his eyes dart toward Stacy. She gives him an apologetic look, but is at a loss of words. Aaron bravely looks Dean right in the eyes. “Of course I do. Who in this school doesn’t think you’re attractive?” Dean feels a twist in his stomach. Aaron’s eyes are burning through Dean’s. He can feel the intensity penetrate his entire body. He can feel want and desire in Aaron’s eyes. And now Aaron has the biggest, cockiest grin on his face._

_Suddenly, Dean doesn’t know what is coming over him. He gulps as he looks down at Aaron’s lips. And he wants to kiss him. Oh God, does he want to kiss him right now. And this is so new. Dean has never wanted to kiss a guy before, but now he feels feverish for the sensation._

_“Well you’re pretty hot yourself,” he retorts as he takes a step closer to Aaron, and he can hear Stacy gasp._

_Dean doesn’t know how it starts, but his lips are suddenly on Aaron’s and their hands are roaming, looking for a place to grasp onto each other. And it is different. Good, but different. That difference, between kissing girls and kissing Aaron Bass, gives Dean an adrenaline rush. An incredible excitement. He doesn’t care that Stacy is standing right there. He doesn’t care that people are probably staring at them right now. All he cares about is this new, fascinating feeling. His whole body feels electric, and he likes the way Aaron tastes._

_The kiss is fast and sloppy and feverish, but it is the most exhilarating kiss Dean has ever experienced. He pulls himself away from Aaron, and their lips part with a pop. They are both panting, Aaron staring at Dean in disbelief. Dean gives a wolfish grin and takes a step back. He turns on his heel, but his eyes keep contact with Aaron’s from over his shoulder._

_“See ya in history, Bass,” he winks as he exits the room. His pulse is still racing when he walks out the front door, into the chilled winter air. The cold feels amazing, cooling the intense heat that is radiating from his body. Damn, did that just happen? Dean staggers his way down the street, thankful that the motel his dad chose to stay at is within walking distance from the party. He is definitely too drunk to be driving right now._

Dean pulled himself from the memory, and started to run the shower. Would he get that same rush if he kissed Cas? That same fever? That same feeling of electricity pulsing through every inch of his body? Fuck, he really shouldn’t be thinking these things. This was different. As far as he knew, Cas wasn’t gay and Cas didn’t have a crush on him. Those were the reasons for Dean’s sudden spark of interest in Aaron, right? It was because Aaron wanted him, and the thought of Aaron wanting Dean made Dean want Aaron back. Or it at least made him curious to see what would happen if he could have Aaron. Yeah, he was just curious and Aaron was obviously more than willing to satisfy his curiosity. The guy kissed him back, after all.

Dean shook his head. No, this had to stop. That was his gay thing. His one gay thing. Dean liked girls. He definitely really, really liked girls. He had just been so enticed by kissing Aaron because it was new and it was different. End of story. Dean was not gay. He shed his clothes and stepped into the warm stream of water flowing from the shower head. He was determined to wash away all his thoughts of Aaron Bass, as if they could simply be scrubbed from his head with shampoo.

\--

Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket on the bus ride home. Ruby, who sat behind him, leaned over the seat to snoop. “Oh, Sammy got a text. Is it from her?” She teased, looking down at the phone that was now in his hand. Sam blushed and covered the screen with his hand to hide the text from her. “Maybe,” he answered coyly.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “God, Sam. I know it’s from her. Just read it to me. You know I’ll end up reading it some way or another anyway.” She did have a point. Ruby was fairly good at stealing Sam’s phone.

“Okay, I will. Hold on,” Sam opened up the message from Jess that was sitting in his inbox.

Sam Winchester met Jessica Moore when he was in eighth grade. They instantly became friends, and had grown fairly close in the three weeks that Sam, Dean, and John had lived in Nebraska. When Sam told her he had to move away, Jess promised to keep in touch, and she had done just that over the past two years. Some weeks they would text more frequently than others, but they communicated nonetheless. Sometimes, though not often, they would even call each other.

“She said ‘I got to take home the teacup I made in ceramics class today. How long do you think I have until I accidentally drop it or break the handle off or something?’” Sam laughed.

Ruby smiled mischievously, “How long have you two been dating again?”

Sam looked up at her with a furrowed brow. “We aren’t dating, we’re just friends.”

She gave another dramatic eye roll. “Sam, you haven’t seen this girl in, what was it, two years and you are still talking to her on a regular basis. I think a long distance relationship might work,” Ruby pointed out.

“I mean, yeah, I like her as more than a friend, but I don’t think she feels the same about me. I’m sure there is someone at her school she likes. Even if she had a crush on me in eighth grade, I’m sure she is over it by now,” Sam admitted.

“Winchester, for a smart kid you can be really dumb sometimes. She wouldn’t still be talking to you if she didn’t like you as more than a friend.”

“Yes she would. Jess is just nice like that. She doesn’t like to lose touch with friends, that’s all. Besides, you don’t even know her,” Sam scoffed.

Ruby playfully ruffled Sam’s hair. “Relax, dude. I was just trying to help. If you want to ignore the totally obvious signs that this girl is crazy about you, then fine. It’s your life,” she preached as she slid back down into her seat.

Sam shook his head, then looked back down at his phone to type up a reply.

When Sam and Ruby got off at their bus stop, they waved goodbye and walked in opposite directions down the road. Sam kept checking his phone for a response from Jess, but he hadn’t received one yet. He was excited to get another text from her. They hadn’t talked much in the last week, and as lame and mushy as it sounded, he really missed her. He knew that her home in Nebraska wasn’t too far from their new house, but he didn’t think it’d be a good idea to visit her.

Sam still wasn’t buying that they would end up living here permanently, especially considering that John had now run off on another case. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that he’d be able to go visit Jess, only to have them crushed when he had to move away again. It was better if they just remained long distance friends. It would be less painful for everyone involved.

Sam walked in the door to see Dean vacuuming the living room carpet. What the hell was he doing?

Dean looked up at him and turned off the vacuum. “Hiya, Sammy. Good day at school?”

“Um, yeah, I guess,” he hesitated. “Why are you vacuuming? I didn’t even know we owned a vacuum.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, we do. And I don’t know, I didn’t have anything else to do today so I thought I’d clean up the house. Nothing wrong with not wanting to live in a pigsty,” he defended.

“Okay then…” Sam dismissed as he toed off his shoes and dropped his backpack to the floor. He turned back to Dean and saw his brother wearing a “what the fuck, dude?” look on his face. Oh, right.

“Relax, I’ll bring my stuff in my room in a second. Sorry, I know you just cleaned,” Sam said as he plopped down onto the couch. “So, what time did you get up today? You looked dead when I left for school.”

Dean found his way over to the couch and collapsed next to Sam. “Uh, noonish I think.” Then his eyes widened. “You’ll never believe what happened last night, dude,” he added.

Sam sat up straight and studied his brother’s expression. “What? Weren’t you here last night?”

“Well I was, but then I couldn’t sleep so I went for a drive,” Dean explained. “Anyway, I ended up parked on that bridge, cause I wanted to just go out and watch the river and think. But then this guy walks up, and it was _Cas_ , Sammy.”

Cas? It took Sam a minute to think, but he finally matched the name. “Oh, you mean Castiel? That dude from the other night?”

Dean shook his head. “Yeah, him! We started talking and he’s actually a pretty cool guy. I mean, he’s also kind of strange. He’s a weird, dorky, little guy, but still cool. We went over to Benny’s and hung out for a while,” Dean explained.

“Little guy? He didn’t look that little when he was keeping your drunk ass from falling back on the pavement the other night,” Sam laughed, proud of himself for his jab at his brother.

“Bitch,” Dean sneered.

“Jerk,” Sam snapped as he pulled an instant bitchface.

“Anyway, I guess we are kind of friends now. He goes to the university here. He’s a freshman,” Dean continued.

“Well I’m glad you’ve finally made a friend here, Dean. You should invite him over here sometime to hang out or whatever. I think he’s pretty cool, too,” Sam offered sincerely. He really did like Castiel and wouldn’t mind having him around. Plus, now maybe Dean wouldn’t have to spend his free time cleaning if he had a friend to chill with.

 Suddenly, Sam’s cellphone began to ring. He pulled the phone from his pocket so fast that it almost flew out of his hand and across the room. Dean just laughed. “Jess?” Dean asked. Sam frantically looked down at the caller ID and gave a frown. “No, it’s Ruby,” he sighed disappointedly. Not that he didn’t like talking to Ruby, but he had just talked to her on the bus. He hadn’t received a phone call from Jess in a month.

“Hey, Winchester. A couple of us are going bowling at six if you wanna come. Cecily is taking me and she said she can give you a ride too,” Ruby offered.

Sam thought for a moment, trying to recall how much homework he had to get done tonight. He decided he could finish it all before six. “Yeah, sounds like fun. I’ll come along. Thanks,” he told her, hoping she couldn’t sense the disappointment that was still looming in his mind from not hearing from Jess. He really didn’t want Ruby to think he wasn’t excited to go hang out with her and their friends.

“Alright, cool. We are meeting there at six, so Cecily and I will be at your place around five forty-five. Bring your bowling shoes,” Ruby ordered.

“I don’t have bowling shoes. Can’t you rent them there?” Sam asked, suddenly afraid that he wouldn’t be able to go without shoes of his own.

“Yeah, but you’ve got some big feet, Winchester. I don’t know if they’ll carry your size,” she taunted.

“Ha-ha, very funny, Ruby. I’ll see you at five forty-five,” Sam deadpanned.

“See ya,” she said before hanging up.

Now that he was off the line, Sam checked his phone for a missed text from Jess. He tried to pretend that his heart didn’t sink when there wasn’t one.

“Going somewhere?” Dean asked, studying his brother’s face.

“Yeah, I’m going bowling with some friends. Ruby’s sister is going to take us over there. Is that cool?” Sam questioned, hoping Dean wouldn’t mind.

“Sure. Do you need dinner before you go?” Dean sounded more like a mom than a brother.

“Nah, I’ll just eat when I get there. Thanks though,” Sam smiled. “But hey, if you are bored, you should invite Cas to do something. Did you guys exchange numbers?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, actually we did. That’s a good idea, Sammy. I’ll think about it,” he considered.

Although Sam was feeling let down from not hearing back from Jess, he couldn’t hide the happiness he was feeling for his brother. Cas was exactly what Dean needed right now, with their dad being gone and Sam at school all day. Dean finally had a friend.

\--

Cas had just put a pot of water on the stove when his phone rang. He answered without bothering to see who it was, assuming it was Anna.

“Hey Cas,” the familiar voice said over the line. Cas felt his heart leap.

“Hello Dean,” he returned, somehow succeeding at keeping his voice calm.

“How was your first day of classes?” Dean asked, but his voice implied that there was something else he wanted to say.

“It was okay. Boring, but tolerable. How was your day?” Cas asked back, hoping there would be more to this conversation than small talk.

“Also boring. Anyway, the reason I’m calling is cause Sam is ditching me tonight to go bowling with his school friends. I was wondering if maybe you’d want to hang out or something? You know, if you aren’t busy,” Dean thankfully got straight to the point.

Cas smiled. “Oh, of course. I’d actually really like that. What time did you have in mind?”

“Uh, well Sam just left, so I guess you could come over anytime you want. Or I could come pick you up and we could go somewhere? I don’t know, I haven’t really just chilled with another dude in a while. What are kids our age supposed to do for fun?” Dean laughed at himself.

“You’re asking the wrong person, but I’m sure we can find something to do,” Cas laughed, realized how pathetic they both were. “Have you had dinner yet?” He eyed the pot of water that he had started to boil.

“No, I haven’t. I was going to make parmesan chicken for Sam and me tonight, but like I said, he ditched. If you haven’t eaten yet, you could come over here for dinner,” Dean suggested.

Cas quickly turned the burner off. “That would be great. I could come over now if you want me to help you make it. I’m not much of a cook, but I’m usually good at following instructions.” Cas hoped he didn’t sound too eager over the phone.

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll just come pick you up since I now know where you live. I’ll be over in like, five minutes or so,” Dean offered.

“Perfect. Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye, Cas.”

Cas removed the pot of water from the stove and dumped it down the sink. He then hurried into his room to change his clothes. He had dressed nicely for his first day of classes, but he soon realized that no one in college really cared much about appearances. Plus, Dean was a chill guy, so he’d probably think Cas was too uptight if he saw him wearing his button-down shirt and khakis. Cas pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He had just laced up his Converse sneakers when he got a text from Dean saying that he was parked outside the front door.

Cas couldn't keep himself from grinning stupidly as walked out of his apartment and climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala.


	5. Give Me a Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing a terrible job of updating on Sundays, so I will be switching to adding a new chapter every Tuesday now instead, starting next week. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! I appreciate any and all feedback I get. 
> 
> This chapter is all Dean/Cas, but don't worry...we will get some Sammy time next chapter. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and as always, tell me what you think!
> 
> Chapter warning: Not really sure if this warrants a warning, but just in case...there is a little bit of an identity crisis/panic in this chapter. It is short and I don't go into much detail about it though.

Although Cas was sitting next to him in normal daytime wear, his hair was just as mussed and wild as it was last night. Dean wondered if the guy had perpetual bedhead, but he wasn’t complaining. Cas looked hot with his unruly, dark brown locks fringing his forehead and thickly covering his head. Dean also noticed that Cas had shaved this morning, and his clean-shaven jaw contrasted the tangled mess on his head nicely. Well, fuck. Cas hadn’t even been in the car for more than five minutes, and Dean was already thinking about how attractive he thought he was. This was going to be a long night.

When he pulled up to his house, he glanced over and noticed a smile spread across Cas’ face. “Well, this is it. Casa de Winchester,” Dean announced as he stopped the Impala in the driveway and shifted to park. Cas let out a little laugh that sent shivers down Dean’s spine. He pretended that a cold chill was the cause of his shuddering.

“I like it,” Cas said as they shuffled out of the car and made their way to the front door. “It looks very homey and inviting.” Dean took in the sight of the small, pale yellow house as they approached it. His eyes traced over the white-railed porch and studied the worn, navy shutters. It did look homey, and that is why Dean liked it. The house felt homey, too. It was the first place he’d lived that actually felt like a home since he was four years old. Dean wanted to stay in this house forever. Or at least for a couple of years. He just wanted to grow some roots in a town for once. He was tired of having his feet ripped from the ground as soon as he started to sink into the soil.

“Thanks. For someone who has been avoiding permanent residence for years, my dad sure can pick a house,” Dean joked as he fiddled with the key at the door. He jiggled the key in the lock, and the door finally popped open. “Guests first,” he said as he stepped aside and held the door open for Cas. Cas stared at him with kind eyes and a thankful smile, then brushed past him as he stepped across the threshold.

It was weird having Cas in his house. Not in a bad way, just in an unfamiliar way. It had only been John, Sam, and Dean in the house for the past couple of months, so it was odd for Dean to see someone else in their abode. Bobby may have come over a time or two, but he was the only non-Winchester Dean could think of who had been in the house. Sam never had friends over. He always went out to see his friends, which Dean assumed was because Sam just needed to escape sometimes. John and Sam butted heads frequently, and Dean didn’t think Sam wanted to bring his friends into the combat territory. There always seemed to be an awkward tension between his father and little brother, and Dean was certain Sam wouldn’t want his friends to be in the middle of it. Maybe now that John was away, Sam would invite someone over for once.

“So, what can I do to help with dinner?” Cas asked as he and Dean removed their shoes at the door.

“You can make the sauce for the chicken. It’s not that hard, and I can give you instructions while I prepare the chicken itself,” Dean explained. He motioned his hand for Cas to follow, and he led the way into the kitchen.

“Okay. Like I said on the phone, I’m not exactly experienced in cooking, but I think I can manage to make the sauce,” Cas said tentatively, “with your guidance, of course.”

Dean just laughed. “Cas, dude, don’t worry about it. It is pretty hard to screw up.”

Dean watched as a beautiful plume of pink flushed on Cas’ cheeks and he dropped his eyes timidly to the ground. Despite his obvious embarrassment, he was still smiling a soft, sweet smile that made Dean’s heart melt. Why did the guy have to look as adorable as a damn kitten? It shouldn’t be legal.

Within no time, they were preparing dinner and falling into a rhythm as they moved about the kitchen. Dean called instructions to Cas over his shoulder as he worked on whisking eggs together to coat the chicken in. Dean had turned on the radio, and classic rock bounced off the walls of the tiny kitchen. The sound shook the ground and rattled the dishes in the sink.

“ _Cause the walls start shaking, the earth was quaking. My mind was aching, and you were maa-king it and you_ ,” Dean sang along, rocking his hips and whisking the eggs to the beat, “ _shook me all night long_.”

He could hear Cas chuckling, and he turned to face him, bowl in one arm and whisk in the other hand. Dean raised the whisk toward his mouth and sang into it, using it as a pseudo microphone. He continued to jut his hips side-to-side.

“ _Yeah you_ ,” he screeched, eyes narrowed and laser-focused on Cas, “ _shook me all night long_.” Way to go, Winchester. Singing that to a guy doesn’t seem gay at all. But then something amazing happened. Castiel burst into an enormous fit of laughter. His entire face was glowing and his mouth was agape in a full, genuine smile. His arms wrapped around his stomach, and the guy looked like he was fighting back tears.

“I-I’m so, I’m so sorry,” Cas cried through his laughter. “Your face just looked so dead serious, but then you were singing into a whisk and you were doing a little dance and,” Cas panted, trying to calm himself. Dean felt so proud of himself for making Cas laugh so hard. He didn’t want Cas to calm down. He didn’t want him to stop laughing. He didn’t want him to stop looking so damn happy. So Dean just kept thrusting his hips, and he gave Cas his best “blue steel” face.

Cas lost it. The guy collapsed against the counter and nearly knocked over the bowl he had been mixing the sauce ingredients in.

“Dean! Dean, stop! I-I can’t, I can’t take it,” he pled through his laugh attack.

Dean finally broke character and started laughing himself. He reached over and turned the music down. “Sorry, dude. I couldn’t help it. AC/DC brings out my inner rock star,” Dean winked. No, no, no. He shouldn’t be winking. Platonic dude-bros don’t give each other flirty winks. What was he doing? Well, he knew what he was doing. The real question was, why couldn’t he keep himself from doing it?

Cas finally managed to get a grip, and he was soon back to preparing the sauce for the chicken. “What do I do after I mix the tomato chunks, oregano, red pepper flakes, and sugar?” He asked Dean as he gently stirred the mixture.

“Uh, you already grated the onions, right?” Dean was now working on combining breadcrumbs and parmesan in another bowl for the final coating of the chicken.

“Yes, the onions have been grated,” Cas confirmed.

“Okay, great. There should be a saucepan in the top right cabinet over there,” Dean informed, and he directed Cas to the location of the saucepan with his thumb. “Just bring that over here and I’ll sauté the onions. You can start dipping the chicken in the egg mix and then in this bowl to form the crust,” he explained.

Cas obeyed, and shuffled across the kitchen to retrieve the saucepan. Because of the cramped space in the kitchen, he had to squeeze past Dean to fulfill the task.

“Excuse me,” Dean heard Cas say from behind him and he felt the friction between them as the side of Cas’ body brushed against Dean. That friction generated an electric shock that zapped across every nerve in Dean’s body, making his pulse race. Fuck. He hadn’t felt a charge like that since he kissed Aaron Bass two years ago. If the slightest touch from Castiel could make Dean feel like that, he could only imagine what kissing Cas would feel like.

No. Stop. Pause. Ignore it, Dean. You like girls. No more of this stupid curiosity. Dean tried to shake off the thoughts of kissing Cas, but it was proven to be a difficult task with every inch of his body still buzzing like a live wire. And the worst part was that Dean craved more. He wanted Cas to walk past him again. He wanted to feel their shoulders collide. He wanted any bit of friction he could get. He could feel the desire swelling deep in his stomach, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Here you go,” Cas said, suddenly standing next to Dean with the saucepan in an outstretched hand.

Dean smiled and took it from him. “Thanks,” he managed to respond, however he was fairly certain he was doing a horrible job of hiding what was building up inside of him. Cas tilted his head and locked his eyes to Dean’s. Dean could feel his face burning red, and he was positive that Cas could see the lust in his eyes. But it looked like there was something in Cas’ eyes too. A spark? A flame? It was a glint of something concealed behind his bright blue eyes.

Dean wasn’t sure how long they were looking at each other. It felt like seconds and years simultaneously. Dean coughed and turned away from Cas to go sauté the onions. He was relieved to be free from Cas’ intense gaze, yet he missed the rush of it at the same time. Ignore it, Dean. Ignore the sexual tension and the fact that if anyone had been watching them just then, they would’ve defined the interaction as eye sex.

There was an awkward silence that fell between them as they proceeded to fix dinner. After a few songs played on the radio, the tension was finally settling, mostly because Dean made sure to position himself on the opposite end of the kitchen as Cas while they worked. Soon, everything was ready to be put into the oven. Cas stood right beside Dean as he placed the chicken into the oven and closed the door. Damn it, why did the guy always have to stand so close? Dean didn’t want to give himself any time to react to Cas’ very near presence.

“Okay, those should cook for ten to twelve minutes. We can just go watch TV or something until they’re done,” Dean suggested, and with that he hurried toward the living room. He hoped it would help ease the tension if they were in a more spacious room. Dean knew he just had to get out of that little kitchen, because he definitely could not take the heat.

Cas trailed behind, but not too closely. It was as if he had read Dean’s mind and was purposefully trying to give him some space. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, and Dean flicked on the television, even though the radio was still blaring from the kitchen. He began to frantically flip through the channels, looking for anything that seemed semi-interesting and would be a distraction from the situation. Dean wasn’t sure how many channels he had passed before Cas spoke up.

“Um, Dean? Is everything okay?”

Dean peeled his eyes from the screen and met Castiel’s blue ones. “Huh? Uh, yeah. Sorry, I know I’m acting kind of strange. It’s just…I was thinking about something, but I don’t really want to be thinking about it, so I was just trying to distract myself and I…” He noticed that Cas’ eyes were filled with concern, and his face looked a bit panicked.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong! I’m just,” Dean struggled to find the words. Having a big gay panic. Those were the words he wanted to say. “I’m sorry,” he concluded lamely, and with that, he looked down at the remote control in his hand and turned off the television.

“So, have you met anyone interesting yet? Made any friends?” Dean smiled, hoping Cas would take a hint and go along with the subject change.

\--

Okay, so whatever was bothering Dean, he obviously didn’t want to talk about it. Cas decided to oblige and answer his questions, pretending as though there wasn’t some awkward pressure between them.

“No, I haven’t really had the chance to talk to any of my classmates,” Cas confessed, feeling slightly embarrassed because what he really meant by that was that he was too shy to talk to anyone. He also wanted to add that he thought Dean was the most interesting person he has met so far, but since Dean was behaving kind of oddly, he decided against it.

“Oh, well I’m sure once you start getting into the swing of things, you’ll make tons of friends,” Dean reassured him with a sweet smile.

“Thank you, Dean. I certainly hope that will be the case. It’s just that, I’m not very good at socializing. I guess I just don’t know what to say to get to know someone else. It’s hard to find things in common to talk about,” Cas explained. He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling Dean all of this. He supposed it was because he already felt comfortable around Dean, even though this was only their second time actually hanging out together. Everything just felt right with him. Cas knew this is what it meant to truly be friends with someone. You could tell them anything and not be afraid that they would judge you.

“Cas, you’re perfectly fine at socializing! I mean, we talked a lot last night. I wouldn’t have even guessed that you were shy,” Dean encouraged genuinely. His eyes were sparkling, and it took every fiber of Cas’ being not to sigh lovingly at the sight of him. He could get lost forever in those eyes. How was this even possible? Castiel had never felt such affection for a person so quickly and as immensely as he felt it for Dean at this moment. 

“That’s different though. I’m not usually like that,” Cas began before he could even think about it. “It’s different with you. Everything is different with you, and I’m not sure why.” He quickly dropped his eyes to his hands and pretended to scratch a non-existent itch on one of his palms. He could feel himself blushing and sent up a silent prayer that Dean wouldn’t notice.

Dean didn’t say anything, and Cas was too afraid to face him to read his reaction. He decided to just keep talking and use this time to observe the Winchester’s living room. “You’re just easy to talk to. You’re actually engaged in our conversations and you ask questions. It makes it easier for me to keep the conversation going when the other person is helping me along, you know? And, well, you do that, Dean. So thank you,” Cas finished his speech. He dared to glance up at Dean, and he was greeted by a toothy grin.

“No problem, Cas. And hey, maybe you’ll find someone else who is easy to talk to in one of your classes. It might just take some time,” Dean said, and Cas just wanted to give him a hug. He wanted to pull him into a warm embrace and never let him go. Dean Winchester was by far the sweetest person he had ever met. Well, except for Anna when she wasn’t teasing him.

It took Cas a minute to realize that he and Dean were just staring at each other again. Only this time, the looks they were exchanging were those of adoration opposed to lust. At least Cas _thought_ they were looking at each other lustfully in the kitchen earlier. He definitely was feeling an intense desire to be as close to Dean as physically possible, but he wasn’t sure if Dean was feeling the same thing. Cas was still paranoid that he was misinterpreting all of the “signs” he thought Dean was giving him.

Suddenly, Dean perked up with a realization. “Oh! I better go check on the chicken,” he hopped up from his place on the couch. “You can stay here, I’ll be right back.” He hurried into the other room, and Castiel tried not to check out Dean’s ass as he passed him. Actually, he didn’t try very hard at all.

“Hey, Cas! Come on in here, dinner is ready!” Dean called over the music from the kitchen, and with that Cas was on his feet and practically catapulting himself into the other room.

\--

Dinner was nice. The chicken parmesan turned out perfectly, and Dean and Cas were able to tell each other some more about their pasts. Dean had decided that he should go ahead and tell Cas about how his mother died when he was four. He was surprised to hear that Cas had lost his mom as well.

“I was twelve years old,” Cas said as he speared another piece of chicken with his fork. “After she died, my father went into a deep depression. He became an alcoholic and was deemed unfit to raise us, so we went to live with our uncle, Zachariah. He’s the doctor I told you about.”

“Wow, Cas.  I’m sorry to hear that,” Dean sympathized. “It’s kind of freaky though that we have such similar backgrounds, isn’t it? I mean, my father had sort of the same reaction too. He left Sam and me with Uncle Bobby right after mom died, and then he disappeared for four years. I still don’t really know where he went during that time.”

“At least he came back for you. I know it must’ve been hard to keep moving around with him, but at least you got to see him sometimes,” Cas said pointedly, and he plopped another bite of the meal into his mouth.

“Yeah, I guess you are right,” Dean agreed. “When was the last time you saw your dad?”

Cas swallowed his food, then looked up timidly through his lashes. “When I was thirteen. The day I moved in with Uncle Zach.”

“You’re kidding?! Have you at least talked to the guy since then?” Dean pressed, but he immediately regretted it. He knew it was probably a sensitive topic and he shouldn’t be nosy, but he honestly wanted to know if Castiel had really gone all these years without any contact with his own father.

“He did call us once during Christmas time when I was fifteen, but he didn’t have much to say. I assume he was at least partially intoxicated during the conversation. But besides that, I haven’t really spoken to him,” Cas practically whispered as he nudged the remaining food on his plate with his fork. How could someone go all that time without talking to their kids? And here Dean thought John was definitely douchebag dad of the year.

Cas was breaking Dean’s heart. He suddenly looked so deflated and disheartened, and it made Dean sick to his stomach. He had to change this, and quickly.

“You know what, Cas? They may be our fathers, and we may love them, but fuck them! We can’t just sit around and mope about them. Yeah, they lost their wives, but they still have their children. And if they can’t see that and pull it together enough for our sake, then screw ‘em!”

Dean got up from the table and took his empty plate with him. He tossed the plate into the sink and turned on the radio (he had turned it off while they ate so they could talk). Thankfully, the station wasn’t on a commercial break, and the rock music erupted throughout the kitchen. Remembering Cas’ reaction to his song-and-dance earlier, Dean grabbed a spoon off the counter and turned to face Cas with a wolfish grin on his face.

“ _Now you move soo fiiine, let me lay it on the line_ ,” Dean hopped right into the song, hips pulsing again with the beat. “ _I wanna know, what you’re doin’, after the show._ ”

Dean was thrilled to see a smile creeping across Cas’ face. And suddenly, it appeared that an excitement was bubbling up inside Castiel too.

“Dean! I actually know this song!” Cas exclaimed. Dean wondered why Cas would know this song, but not one of the other gazillion classics they had listened to in the past two days. He decided to shrug it off. At least Cas was cheering up now.

Dean laughed, then continued to serenade Cas from across the kitchen.

“ _Now it’s up to you, we can make a secret rendezvous_ ,” Dean grabbed a spatula from the nearest drawer. He danced over to Cas and placed the kitchen utensil in his hand. “Come on, Cas! Sing it!” He shouted as the song began to move into the chorus.

“ _That’s why I’m- hot blooded! Check it and see! I’ve got a fever of a hundred and three_ ,” Dean sang off-pitch. He could hear Cas attempting to sing quietly along, but he was mostly laughing through the words.

“Come on, dude, you’re gonna need to be louder than that. We’ve got to prove to those bastards that we are fucking rock stars! They’re gonna wish they’d stuck around to see us!” Dean yelled as he pulled Cas from his chair.

“Okay, okay!” Cas laughed, and Dean was pretty sure he was becoming addicted to the sound.

Dean had talked through the end of the chorus, so now they awkwardly bounced along to the music while they waited for the next verse. “This next verse is all you, buddy. Scream it out!” Dean instructed him, and Cas nodded in agreement.

“ _If it feels alright_ ,” Cas began, but his voice was still barely audible.

“Dude, SCREAM,” Dean encouraged through his laughter. Cas did as he was told and belted out the next line.

“ _Maybe you can, staaay all night. Shall I leave you my key_?”

Dean’s jaw hit the floor. Damn, Cas could actually fucking sing. It was like a switch was flipped in Cas’ brain, because no ounce of shyness was present in him at this moment. He was tapping his foot and bopping his head and rolling his hips like he was born to sing this song.

“ _But you’ve got to give me a sign_ ,” Cas rang out, his blue eyes bulging as they stared directly into Dean’s green ones.

“ _Come on girl_ ,” Dean whaled the backup part.

“ _Some kind of sign_ ,” Cas practically growled into his spatula-turned-microphone.

“ _Tell me!_ ” Dean echoed.

“ _Are you- hot mama? You sure look that way to me_ ,” Cas’ voice was the single most seductive thing Dean had ever heard in his life. It was going to be very difficult to ignore the effect Cas’ voice was having on him right now.

The continued going back and forth between lines, but then they sang in unison when the chorus came around again.

“ _Yeah I’m- hot blooded! Check it and see! Feel the fever burning inside of me_ ,” they sang into their makeshift mics and leaned in closer to each other.

“ _Come on baby, do you do more than dance? I’m hot blooded, I’m hot blooded, I’m hot_!”

The guitar solo started, and Dean began to strum an air guitar. Cas followed suit.

“Dude, what the fuck? You didn’t tell me you were an actual fucking rock star,” Dean shouted over the music.

“I’m really not that good,” Cas panted as he moved his fingers over invisible strings.

Dean placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and that was when he noticed just how close they were standing to each other. Only inches separated them.

“But Cas, you really are that good,” he smiled. Then it all hit him like a ton of bricks. All the electricity from earlier. All of his desire and fever and wanting. And that’s what it was now more than curiosity- it was pure wanting. He wanted more than anything to kiss Cas right now because _hot damn_ , that guy had a sexy voice. And the poor bastard wasn’t even aware of how amazing he was.

Cas looked up at Dean with wild eyes, and this was the first time that Dean unmistakably saw hunger in his eyes. Cas looked absolutely feral and absolutely gorgeous. And maybe if those blue eyes didn’t flicker down to look at Dean’s lips, then Dean wouldn’t have done what he did next. Cas had given him the only sign he needed, and because he was definitely hot blooded now, Dean acted on pure instinct. He didn’t even have time to panic before he crashed his lips into Castiel’s.

Suddenly, they were a mess of frantic hands and moving lips. There was no doubt that Cas was reciprocating the kiss, grasping onto Dean’s shirt and pulling him in closer. Dean tangled his fingers into Cas’ dark hair. He then moved a hand down to the back of Cas’ neck as he licked into his mouth. Kissing Cas sent volts of lightning through his bones. Every surface of Dean’s body was buzzing and his heart was surging. He could feel heat pooling low in his belly, and he crashed his hips into Cas.

Then Dean was thrown completely off guard. Cas’ hands tightly gripped Dean’s waist and wheeled him around, pushing Dean backwards until his shoulders pressed against an empty kitchen wall. _Holy shit._ There was no way this was the same, timid Castiel that Dean had just ate dinner with.

“ _Now it’s up to you, can we make a secret rendezvous_?” The song continued to pour from the radio as they moved their bodies rhythmically with each other.

Cas pressed his body into Dean’s as he deepened the kiss, and Dean found himself petting Cas’ hair back behind his ears and rubbing his hands down his neck. Finally, they pulled their lips apart and gasped, taking in desperate breaths of air. Dean just stared wide-eyed at Cas, who still had him pinned against the wall. Dean also noticed that the tips of their noses were still touching.

The only clear thought that Dean’s mind could form was that kissing Cas put his little experimentation with Aaron Bass to shame.

\--

Cas couldn’t control himself. As soon as Dean’s lips made contact with his, every inhibition he had was gone. Cas had never kissed someone like this. He had never felt such an intensity, such a force, pulling him toward another person like this before. And he had just met Dean this past weekend. It wasn’t like Cas to be shoving his tongue down a guy’s throat when he hadn’t even known them for a week. Normally this would scare Cas, that he would have the ability to develop such a strong attraction in such a short amount of time. But right now, Cas couldn’t care less, because he was kissing Dean Winchester. He was kissing Dean Winchester, and everything about it felt so right.

Cas surprised himself when he pushed Dean back against the wall next to the kitchen table. He had never been so aggressive and demanding while making out with someone before. Maybe he could blame it on the rock music, because it made him feel indestructible and got his blood boiling. Or perhaps it was really Dean giving him that feeling.

When their lips parted, Cas felt dizzy. It took him a minute to focus his eyes and realize that yes, what had happened was in fact real. Wait- it was all real. He just pushed Dean Winchester up against a wall and attacked him with his tongue. Oh no.

Cas pulled his hands from Dean’s waist as if he was pulling them from a hot stovetop. He took a step backwards, and panic shot through his heart. The radio was still blasting, so he hurried over to turn it off.

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” he began as he turned back around, looking remorsefully at a very disheveled Dean leaning back against the wall.

“I don’t know what got into me! I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry!” Cas pled, waiting for Dean to do or say something. Anything.

“A-are you okay? Did I hurt you when I-“

“Cas,” Dean finally spoke, and the corner of his mouth was curled up into a half-smile. “I’m fine! Please don’t apologize, man. I think you are forgetting the part where _I kissed you first_ ,” he laughed, and Cas felt like the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders.

“Oh yeah,” Cas breathed. “That was how it happened, wasn’t it?”

Dean broke into a full belly-laugh, and soon Cas was laughing too.

“Yeah, I may have started it, but holy fuck, dude. Shy my ass! You looked like you were going to devour me!” Dean exclaimed, and his eyes looked more excited by the thought than terrified.

Cas could feel his face flush red. “I suppose I didn’t really know I had that in me,” he said sheepishly as he absentmindedly scratched at the back of his neck.

“Have you ever kissed a guy before?” Dean asked seemingly out of nowhere.

Cas nodded. “Yes, but only one. And I didn’t kiss him until we had been dating for a week,” he admitted. “What about you?”

Dean hesitated for a moment before nodding his head, too.

“Yeah, it was two years ago. I knew he was gay and he was into me…I mostly wanted to kiss him because I was curious to see what it would feel like. Plus, I knew he wouldn't mind if I kissed him. It turned out, I kinda liked it. I’ve never considered myself to be gay before though,” Dean explained.

“But now...?” Cas offered, because it seemed as though Dean had stopped in the middle of a thought.

“I don’t know,” Dean practically whispered.

“Oh,” Cas said equally as quiet. He didn’t really know what else to say. Was Dean not gay? Had he just kissed Cas because he was curious? It had certainly felt like there was more to the kiss than that.

“I mean, I didn’t kiss you just now because I was curious…well, maybe I was a little curious…but that’s not the main reason. I wanted to kiss you. Like, I wanted to kiss you so badly it almost hurt. I wanted to kiss you because you were so damn hot and you’re an awesome person. But I’ve felt that way about girls too. I’m positive I still like girls that way,” Dean rambled on, sounding more and more confused the more he spoke.

“Dean, you don’t have to be ‘gay’ or ‘straight’. Maybe you’re bi or pansexual,” Cas suggested, hoping desperately that Dean wouldn’t freak out. He definitely sounded like he was having a bit of an identity crisis. “Or you don’t even have to label yourself. Just do what makes you happy.”

It appeared as though some of the confusion was clearing out of Dean’s mind. He bit his bottom lip and looked back at Castiel. “You’re right. I just want to forget about that right now anyway,” he said softly and he stepped toward Cas. Soon he was standing right in front of him and their noses were touching again.

Dean leaned in and kissed Cas ever so tenderly. Castiel could feel butterflies beating their wings in the pit of his stomach, and fluttering their way up into his heart.

“I have no idea why I’m doing this. I don’t usually act this way- it’s all too much of a chick flick moment for me,” Dean laughed, and Castiel joined in.

“Yes, I have definitely been behaving out of character since I met you as well. We must just have that effect on each other,” he concluded.

“Mhmm,” Dean agreed.

Cas suddenly noticed that their arms were wrapped around each other. When did that happen?

“So what now?” Cas asked, because he honestly didn’t know. Was Dean looking for a relationship, or did he just want someone to kiss? Would he still feel this way about Cas tomorrow?

“The hell if I know,” Dean chuckled. “I’m just trying to enjoy this now before I overthink everything and have a big gay panic.” Well at least he was being truthful. That was one of the things Cas liked most about Dean. He wasn’t worried that Dean would ever lie to him.

“Well in that case,” Cas said as he raised his eyebrows and smiled mischievously. He grabbed Dean by the wrists and slowly led him out of the kitchen. He thanked God that he didn’t trip or bump into anything as he walked backwards, pulling Dean into the living room. That would have been terribly embarrassing.

He finally found his way to the couch and sat down, gently tugging Dean down to sit beside him. Don’t overthink it. Dean didn’t want to over think it, so Cas decided he should just go with the flow, too. So he reached out and cupped Dean’s beautiful face in his hands and pressed his lips to the lips of the blond boy next to him.

And it was amazing how simple everything could be with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs featured in this chapter: "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC and "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner.


	6. -announcement-

So sorry, guys. This isn't a new chapter, I just had to say that something unfortunate has come up and I'm having some family issues now. I don't know when I will be able to update again, but I just wanted to let you guys know that I do plan to finish the story, I just might not be able to add another chapter for a couple of weeks. Things just got stressful at work and then this family thing just came up out of nowhere and it's too much for me to work on this right now. Again, I'm sorry, but please don't think I'm abandoning you forever! Thanks so much for reading, and I'll try to get back as soon as I can. 

Thanks for understanding!


	7. -another announcement-

Hello everyone! 

I know...I'm actually alive. I'm so sorry that what I thought would be weeks turned into months. I had a family crisis and it swirled into something much bigger, and I was going through a pretty rough time. However, I'm doing much better now, and I'm really wanting to finally get back to writing this fic! Considering all that has happened in the past couple of months though, I'm thinking about changing the direction of this fic from what I originally planned. I had in mind a lot more angst, but I'm thinking of making it a bit more fluffy and cute (and possibly comical if I can pull it off). I just don't know if I'm ready to write something too sad or angsty yet since I'm still pretty emotional from my own personal drama. 

Anyway, point of this rambling is that I'm hoping to get another chapter up (FINALLY!!) by November and continue the story from then. I will try to keep updating weekly after that, but seeing as I'm back in school now I don't know if I can make that promise. 

Regardless, I just wanted to thank you all for reading and leaving such kind comments! You are all so lovely and I hope I can finally get my shit together enough to give you a good fic. 

Thank you for your patience!


	8. Oh Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I finally finished the next chapter! As I mentioned previously, I'm going to be deviating a bit from my original plan for this fic. I'm not going to include some of the more serious and heavy stuff that I had planned due to personal reasons. Instead, I will make the fic more lighthearted. Therefore, there will be some changes to the tags on this fic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it regardless. Thanks so much for reading and being patient with me through everything!

“You sure we don’t need to put the bumpers up, Winchester?” Meg teased as she elbowed him in the ribs.

“Whatever, I’m just warming up,” Sam retorted. He picked up a ball and sauntered over to the lane.

“I wouldn’t be talking, Meg. You just got a gutter ball on your last turn,” Garth piped up in Sam’s defense. He reached out a hand to high-five Sam as he passed him to take his turn.

“ _I was just warming up_ ,” Meg whined in a low voice, executing her best Sam impression.

Ruby laughed and popped another french fry into her mouth. “You are all ridiculous. I’m pretty sure the last time we went bowling, I won and my score was in the 80s. Face it, we all suck.”

Sam plopped down in the chair beside her and reached out to steal some of her fries. Ruby slapped his hand away and gave him a warning glare. “Hey, you could’ve gotten some for yourself! These are all mine,” she said as she pulled the basket of fries closer toward her.

Sam rolled his eyes, “Okay, okay. I just wanted one fry, sheesh.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, hoping that a new text message would be waiting for him. The screen was blank.

“Your girl still not texting you back?” Ruby asked as she shoved a handful of fries in her mouth.

“She’s not my girl,” Sam snapped back, but he was smiling. There was also a blush sweeping across his cheeks that he hoped Ruby wouldn’t notice.

“See, you keep saying that, but I’m having a hard time believing it,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s true! She’s just a friend. She was never _my girl_ and she probably won’t ever be. I told you, I haven’t seen her in person in years,” Sam trialed off and ran a hand through his hair.

“Where does she live again?” Ruby pried as she took a sip of her soda.

Sam sighed and, for a moment, considered not telling her. “New Prairie, Nebraska,” he finally mumbled.

Ruby almost spit out her drink.

“New Praire, Nebraska?! Sam, that’s only- what? An hour from here? You could totally go see her anytime!” Ruby exclaimed with wide eyes.

“I know, but I don’t know if that would be a good idea. My dad is flighty- I don’t know how long I’m going to be living here. And what if I start visiting her and get attached and then I have to leave again? I don’t think I can do it,” Sam admitted.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Okay, yeah, but at least you will get to see her for the first time in two years. Jesus, Sam. You have the biggest crush on this girl, it’s ridiculous. And I guarantee she feels the same way. Trust me, I know these things,” she winked, and Sam just shook his head at her in disbelief.

“Anyway, the point is, even if you end up moving soon, at least you have the opportunity now to see her. At least once. Isn’t that worth it? Because you know, if you do move again soon it might be somewhere far away and then visiting her won’t even be a possibility.”

“I mean, I guess you do have a point there,” Sam reluctantly agreed.

“Yeah I do. Please tell me you’ll consider going to see her. It physically pains me to know that all you do is sit around looking like a lost puppy while you wait for her to text you and the girl only lives an hour away!” Ruby threw her hands up in exasperation. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to reclaim my thrown as bowling queen.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll think about it,” Sam laughed as Ruby got up and Meg took her place in the seat beside him. And he meant it. Hell, he had already given it a good deal of thought. It would be so easy. He just had to pick up the phone and give Jess a call. Set up a meeting place and time. Get Dean to drive him over there. They had family friends in the next town over that Dean could visit while Sam spent time with Jess. It would be so easy.

But then again, what would he even say to her? Sure, they talked all the time, but would it be different in person? Would he even remember how to form words? To speak? And what did she look like now? Of course he had seen her pictures on Facebook and they had Skyped a couple of times, but she probably looked different in person. Sam could imagine just how beautiful she would be standing in front of him for the first time in years. Sam and Jess: best friends finally reunited after all this time.

“Hey, gigantor, you’re up,” Meg teased as she swatted him playfully on the arm.

“Huh? Oh,” Sam pulled himself out of his thoughts and back to the bowling alley. “Right. Time to show those pins who’s boss,” he smirked as he got up.

Meg snorted. “God, you’re such a dork.”

\--

“I never do this. I mean, really. I _never_ do this,” Cas repeated between kisses, his hands still cupped around Dean’s face.

Dean laughed against his lips. “Dude, I get it. You’ve said that four times now. Just relax.”

It was really ironic that Dean was telling Cas to relax, considering there were about a hundred different questions stirring in the back of his mind at the moment. A hundred different panicking thoughts. What are you doing?! Since when do you like guys?! You just met the damn guy the other day! Why the hell are you shoving your tongue down his throat?! They were all just lurking there, waiting for Dean to let his guard down so they could all flood his mind at once and send him screaming and running away from Cas and the entire situation.

But at the same time, there was a strange sort of calm that covered all of these anxieties. It was something about the way Cas held Dean’s face in his hands. It was so gentle, yet so strong. It made Dean feel comfortable, yet supported. He felt cared for, and _it felt good_. It felt so damn good have someone showering him in sincere affection. Even though they had only just begun their friendship, Dean could tell that Cas genuinely cared about him. And it was all so apparent to him by the way Cas touched him.

Dean could get addicted to this feeling. It was everything he didn’t know he wanted. It was something that had been missing, and he was starting to feel like it was some kind of basic human necessity that he had been deprived of his entire life. This warmth, this comfort, this wonderful bliss of knowing that someone actually gives a fuck about you; it was as if he was drinking water for the first time. It was as if he had somehow gone his whole life dehydrated, suffering, and now he had his first taste of the cool liquid against his parched tongue. And only then did he realize “oh, this is what I need to truly live”.

Dean snaked his arms around Cas’ waist and pulled him close against his body. He just wanted to drink up every drop that Cas had to offer. He wanted to drink up all of his affection, and he wanted to give that affection back to Cas in return. And focusing on this made Dean forget all about Cas being a man. Right now, Cas was just Cas. He was this amazing person who stopped and helped drunken strangers and preferred hot cocoa over coffee and had the voice of an angel. It didn’t even matter if they had only just met; he made Dean feel completely and undeniably happy for the first time in ages. And if the words didn’t scare him so much, Dean might even dare to think that Cas made him feel loved.

“I’m serious, Dean. I don’t just go around making out with guys I barely know. And I barely know you,” Cas pulled his head back to stare into his eyes, but his hands remained pressed along his jawbone.

Dean’s heart sank and he loosened his grip on Cas’ waist.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to, I mean, we don’t have to…” Dean stuttered, suddenly feeling stupid for thinking Castiel actually cared about him. Why would Castiel care about a practical stranger? But then again, how could he have been wrong? Even now Dean could just _feel_ the affection radiating from Cas’ palms into his cheeks.

But before Dean could reach full panic mode, Cas’ eyes grew wide, and he began to frantically shake his head.

“No! No, don’t apologize! I do want to kiss you, I’m just saying that normally I’m not comfortable doing this until I really know someone. Until I know I can trust them. But for some reason, I already feel like I trust you. I don’t know- it’s just different with you I guess. I just wanted you to know that,” Cas admitted with a sweet smile on his lips and a rosy shade of pink tinting his cheeks. “I just wanted you to know that you are different, but it’s a good different.”

Dean sighed in relief. “Oh, um, thanks,” he smiled back, and he was sure that he was blushing too. “You’re different too, Cas. Good different. And I’m not really one to talk much about, uh, _feelings_ , and stuff, but I…” he hesitated. He wanted to tell Cas how he felt. He really did, but the words just wouldn’t pass through his lips.

“Yes?” Cas pushed him along. Impatience was now very apparent in his bright blue eyes.

“I, uh, I just…”

What did he want to say? He wanted to say something. Something to let Cas know what he was thinking. But how? What were the words?

_I really like you. A lot. I want to get to know you better. I want to know everything about you. I think we could be really good friends. No, we could be so much more than that. I don’t want you to take your hands off me. I like the feeling I get when I’m around you. I don’t care that we’ve known each other for a couple of days. Please let us just try this out. I didn’t even know I wanted this until I met you. I’m so fucking scared of what this might mean, but I don’t care about that. I care about you. I’m such a dumbass. Why can’t I just tell you how incredible I think you are?_

“I’m sorry. I’m not very good with words. I’m good at kissing. Can I just kiss you?”

Wow. Dean was the biggest dumbass in the universe. Why was this so fucking hard for him to do? He was sure that Castiel was going to hate him now. Cas probably thought that was all Dean cared about. Making out with the nearest available person. He just told Dean that he trusted him, and he responds by asking to get back to playing tonsil hockey? He was such a dumbass. He deserved to be alone forever.

But there was a glint in Cas’ eyes as he kept them trained on Dean. He was silent, but his eyes were saying something. They seemed to understand. They seemed to be saying that it was okay. And then Cas smiled even wider, and it was him who leaned in and fused their mouths together once again.

Dean reciprocated this kiss, winding his arms further around Cas and nipping at his bottom lip. Their positioning was a bit awkward though. They were seated side-by-side on the couch with their torsos twisted toward each other. Castiel must have thought that they needed rearranging as well, because he suddenly swung one leg over Dean and attempted to climb onto his lap. “Attempted” being the key word there, because he was lacking the momentum needed to hoist himself onto Dean’s lap and ended up awkwardly thrusting against Dean’s leg with every try.

“Dammit,” Cas exhaled on his fourth attempt. “Move,” he demanded as he pushed against Dean’s chest, trying to get him to sit back so he could have more room to rock himself up onto Dean’s lap.

Dean laughed, very much amused by Castiel’s determination.

“You know, I could use your assistance here. Why don’t you make yourself useful instead of just sitting there laughing at me?” Cas snapped.

“I don’t know, you’re kind of cute when you’re pissed off,” Dean teased, but then he hooked one arm under Cas’ arm and the other under his ass and scooped him onto his lap. Cas crashed forward into his chest, Cas’ head now pressed beside Dean’s and his legs now straddling Dean’s hips.

Dean pretended that he didn’t feel his pants growing tighter. This was just all so new to him. There was a dude sitting on his lap and he was actually really turned on by it. Cas pushed against Dean’s shoulders so he could lean back and see Dean’s face.

 “Better?” Dean said with a crooked smile and a twitch of his eyebrows.

“Yes, thank you,” Castiel purred as his eyes narrowed and he cocked his head to the side. He looked as if he was sizing Dean up, as if he was deciding what exactly he was going to do with him now. Then, without warning, he surged forward and licked into Dean’s mouth. He grabbed a fist full of Dean’s shirt with one hand and ran his fingers through Dean’s hair with the other. Dean’s heart raced, and he splayed his hands across Cas’ back, keeping him pinned against him.  Cas’ head suddenly dipped down and he kissed the soft skin under Dean’s jaw. Dean threw his head back to give Cas full access to his neck, and Cas took the opportunity to press sloppy kisses down the length of his neck.

He planted a final kiss on Dean’s collarbone before moving back up to recapture Dean’s lips. Dean hummed in bliss when Cas’ lips returned to his. But in his enthusiasm to once again kiss the blue-eyed boy’s lips, Dean crashed his nose against Cas’ and winced as he was reminded of the bruised skin from his drunken fall.

Cas pulled away. “I’m sorry! I was trying to be careful around your nose. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it just stings a little. And it was my fault, not yours. I got a little excited and forgot about the bruise,” he laughed. “We aren’t very good at this, are we?”

“Apparently not. I mean, I’m generally not that good at this, but I had higher expectations for how this would play out after you claimed to be good at kissing,” Cas smirked.

“Hey, I am good at kissing! If I didn’t have this damn bruise then we wouldn’t have had a problem,” Dean defended. “I just need more practice working around it,” he added as he waggled his eyebrows.

Cas laughed. “Well, they do say that practice makes perfect.” He leaned forward, but was stopped by Dean’s hand on his chest.

“Hold on, let me get my phone out of my back pocket before we try this again. I’ve been sitting on it and the thing has been digging into my ass the entire time.” He removed his hand from Cas’ chest and slipped it beneath him, locating his back pocket and successfully extracting the phone. He tossed it onto the other end of the couch, then looked back to Cas.

“Okay. You may proceed.”

Castiel threw his head back in laughter before he craned back down to continue their make-out session.

\--

Sam’s heart did a backflip when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Was she really calling him? He quickly pulled the phone out and checked the screen for her name. But her name wasn’t there.

“Hold on guys, I have to take this,” Sam said as he rose from his seat and headed for the door.

“Okay, but make it fast. You’re up in two turns,” Ruby called after him.

Sam hit the “accept call” button as he stepped outside.

“Dean, what’s up? Is dad back or something?”

But there wasn’t an audible response from Dean. All Sam could here were muffled sounds.

“Dean? Hello?” He tried again.

Sam turned up the volume on his phone and pressed it closer against his ear, trying to make out whatever he was hearing.

It sounded like lips smacking. And humming. And moaning. And… Oh. My. God. He better not have been hearing what he thought he was hearing. Dean must’ve butt dialed him. And now he was listening to what he could only hope was just a make out session between his brother and whatever poor girl he lured to their home. Why couldn’t Dean have just taken his advice and hung out with Castiel tonight?

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Sam wailed. “YOU ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING, DEAN,” he shouted into the phone before he hung up and headed back into the bowling alley. This disturbing little accidental phone call was going to ruin his concentration for the rest of his game.

\--

“Did you hear something?” Cas whispered breathlessly with his lips hovering over Dean’s.

“No, why?” Dean panted. Cas sat back and his eyes looked over at Dean’s phone on the other end of the couch.

“Oh, never mind then. I just thought I heard someone talking, but I must’ve imagined it.”

“Eh, it’s probably just the neighbor kids. These walls are kind of thin, so we can usually hear those hooligans terrorizing the neighborhood until it gets too dark and their parents call them in,” Dean explained.  

“You’re probably right,” Cas agreed, but he remained sitting back on Dean’s lap.

“Something wrong?” Dean asked as he wrapped his hands around Castiel’s wrists.

“No, I just think that maybe we should do something else now? I mean, not that I didn’t enjoy the kissing, it’s just that it’s getting kind of late. Won’t Sam be back soon?” Cas really didn’t want Sam walking in on him devouring his brother on their couch. That might make things awkward between them, and that was the last thing Cas wanted. He thought Sam seemed like a pretty cool kid.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighed.

Cas slid off of his lap and took his place beside Dean instead.

“So, do you wanna watch a movie or something?” Dean suggested, and Cas nodded his head.

“Yeah, that’d be great. What movies do you have?”

A grin stretched wide against Dean’s face. “The better question would be what movies _don’t_ I have. Lucky for you, my DVD collection is almost as impressive as my music collection.”

\--

Sam made it back right before his turn, but he was still mortified from what he heard on the phone.

“That was fast. Was it Jess?” Ruby asked.

“No, it was my brother. He butt dialed me or something, and I could hear him making out with someone on the other end of the line. Well, I hope that was all it was. Either way, I’m debating now whether or not I need to see a counselor after that traumatic experience,” Sam groaned as he slid his hands over his face.

“That’s awkward. But hey, lucky girl,” Ruby shrugged.

“Ew, Ruby! HE IS MY BROTHER!” Sam shouted.

“Hey! Can you stop freaking out for like two minutes? I’m trying to concentrate here,” Meg complained as she eyed the pins at the end of the lane.

“Meg, you could be a little more sensitive to Sam’s situation,” Garth advised. “I’m sure you’d be freaking out too if that happened to you.”

Meg turned to face them with one hand on her hip and the other holding a bowling ball against her leg.

“It has happened to me. Only it was my parents, not one of my siblings. And it’s much more traumatizing to see it. You’re lucky you only had to hear it,” she said flatly, then turned on her heel to resume her turn.

“Oh my god, someone please change the subject _now_ ,” Sam begged.

When Sam got back to his house later that night, he hesitated before opening the door. It was now close to midnight. He had texted Dean after their second round of bowling to let him know that they would be go out for ice cream and then hanging out at Ruby’s for a while, but he never got a text back. Not that he really expected one, since he imagined his brother was still a little preoccupied with something or someone else.

After standing on the front porch for a minute, Sam decided that he had to go in at some point, so he twisted the doorknob and cracked the door open ever so slightly. He peeked his head in and saw that the room was dark except for the light coming from the TV. The DVD menu for one of the _Indiana Jones_ movies was replaying, and the flashes of light it created were enough for Sam to see Dean asleep with his mouth hanging open and his head slung back over the top of the couch. But he wasn’t alone. A head of messy dark hair was resting on his shoulder.

“What the…?” Sam whispered to himself as he slowly pushed the door open and crept into the house. He tip-toed around the couch so he could identify the owner of the person sleeping on his brother’s shoulder. Confusion struck him when he recognized the person curled against Dean’s side.

“Castiel?!” Sam breathed. Why was Cas here now? What happened to the girl? And oh my god he needed a picture of this because Dean was going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up to find that Castiel had fallen asleep on his shoulder. But wait, were they… _holding hands_?

Realization dawned on Sam, and he looked frantically back and forth between his brother and Cas on the couch. What if _Castiel_ was the mystery girl? What if he had heard Dean and _Cas_ on the phone? Oh my god, he knew it. He had suspected before, but he was pretty sure it was true when he heard from the rumor mill in middle school about Dean and Aaron Bass making out at some house party. He knew he was starting to notice Dean checking out more than just attractive females everywhere they went. And now, with Cas’ fingers entwined in Dean’s and the two assholes sleeping soundly together on the couch, Sam finally confirmed what he had always known. Thank god Dean finally seemed to know it now, too.

Sam glanced back and noticed that he had left the door wide open, so he pivoted on his heel and went to close it. Except, in his hurry to close the door and sneak into his bedroom before one of the sleeping beauties woke up to find him there, he tripped over the rug at the entrance and fell against the door, slamming it closed. The house shook with the force of the door crashing into its frame, and Sam clung to the doorknob, partially pressed against the door and partially sliding into the floor. He pulled himself up and hastily turned to find Dean and Cas stirring on the couch.

“What the hell?” Dean mumbled as he pulled himself out of his daze and turned around on the couch to see his brother standing with his back against the door.

“Uh, hey guys! Sorry about that, I kind of tripped when I went to close the door,” Sam explained, and a toothy, apologetic grin stretched across his face.

Cas’ head popped up over the back of the couch and he looked at Sam with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. Suddenly, Castiel hopped off of the couch and headed toward Sam and the door. “What time is it? I should really be going,” he croaked as he bent down to put his shoes on.

“It’s almost midnight,” Sam answered as he moved away from the door and walked back around the coach to confront Dean.

“And you are just now getting back? How many games did you bowl?” Dean inquired, rubbing at his eyes.

“ _Well_ _if you checked your phone_ , I texted you and told you that we went out for ice cream afterwards and then we spent the rest of the time hanging out down the street at Ruby’s,” Sam retorted, his tone oozing sass.

“Oh,” Dean said, and his eyes darted over to see Cas still fiddling with his shoes. “Sorry about that, we were watching a movie and I guess we fell asleep at some point.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” Sam’s voice dipped low and his eyes narrowed. “So Dean, did you enjoy your evening?”

Sam wished it wasn’t still dark so he could see how red his brother’s face was. He knew Dean was probably reaching shades of cherry tomato at this point.

“It was, uh, it was g-good. W-we had fun,” Dean stuttered, his eyes flicking back and forth between Sam and Cas, who was now standing beside the front door.

“Good,” Sam said, shaking his head in approval and crossing his arms at his chest. A moment of silence followed after, and Sam debated whether or not he wanted to call Dean out right here and right now. On one hand, he knew this was a sensitive topic for Dean, but on the other, he wanted his brother to know that he was okay with it. He didn’t care if Dean liked guys, he just wanted his brother to be able to be himself around him. He wanted Dean to finally be happy. Plus, he knew it would provide a little entertainment for him to see Dean all flustered and trying to make up some lie to cover what really happened that night. So he decided to address the elephant in the room.

“Yeah, I’m glad you guys had fun. I mean, it sounded like you were having fun when you called me,” Sam said nonchalantly.

“When _what_? I didn’t call you,” Dean furrowed his brow.

“Not on purpose, I assume, but I definitely received a call from you tonight,” Sam began, “and I definitely heard you and someone else engaging in some pretty enthusiastic spit-swapping.”

Dean’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head, and then once the initial shock had settled, he stared over at Cas. Dean was such a dead giveaway right now, Sam was embarrassed for him.

\--

“Sam, we, uh,” Dean mumbled, eyes still fixed on Cas, who was frozen in his tracks and sporting an equally shocked look on his face. “It’s not, I mean, we didn’t,” but they did. They made out right there on the couch, and Dean must’ve accidentally called Sam when he pulled his phone out from his pocket. Sam had heard them. Sam _knew_. Shit.

“Dean, it’s okay! You don’t have to explain. It doesn’t bother me. I mean, it does, but you’re my brother, so the thought of you making out with anyone bothers me,” Sam added quickly. “I’ve actually kind of known you liked guys for a while now. I just want you to be happy. Please don’t freak out!”

Dean open and closed his mouth. What did he even say in response to that?

“What do you mean you’ve known I liked guys? I didn’t even know I liked guys until tonight!” Dean shouted, and he could feel the heat radiating off of his face.

“Oh, c’mon, dude. Everyone knew after you made out with Aaron Bass when you were seventeen,” Sam confessed.

“How did you know about that?!” Dean nervously ran a hand through his hair. What the hell was going on? There was no way they were actually having this conversation right now.

“Dean, it was a small town. _Everyone_ knew about it,” Sam sighed. “Did you really think you were going to kiss a dude in front of a bunch of people at a party and no one was going to talk about it?”

Everyone? Really? No one had ever said anything to Dean about it. But then again, they weren’t there very long. Dean was pretty sure they had only been in town for maybe a week after his little rendezvous with Aaron.

“Oh my god, this is not happening,” Dean moaned.

“Oh, it’s happening. I just want you to know that it’s okay. I just don’t ever what another phone call like that from you again,” Sam laughed.

“Trust me, I never want you to hear that again either,” Dean said as he covered his face with his hands. Maybe if he couldn’t see Sam in front of him, he wouldn’t be so mortified.  

“Uh, not to interrupt, but I really should be going. I have class in the morning,” Cas finally spoke up.

Dean lifted his head from his hands and saw Cas still standing awkwardly by the door. He looked so uncomfortable and disheveled that it made Dean chuckle.

“Um, yeah, I’ll take you home,” Dean offered. He stepped around his brother and made his was over to Cas so he could get his shoes on as well.

“It’s good to see you again, Cas. And I mean it, I’m totally okay with you two being, _together_ , or whatever. You seem like a really cool dude,” Sam smiled. A sense of relief swept over Dean with the sincerity of Sam’s words. It was going to be okay. Sam was okay with it. Cas was okay with it. Now he just had to let himself be okay with it. Everything was going to be okay.

“Thank you, Sam. It was good to see you again, too,” Cas replied kindly. Dean opened the door and Cas exited the Winchester household.

“I’ll be right back, Sam. Now go to bed, you have school tomorrow, moron,” Dean called over his shoulder as he followed Cas out and closed the door behind him.

\--

“Well, that was interesting,” Cas muttered from the passenger seat of the Impala.

“Yeah, I can’t believe I butt dialed him or whatever. As if the poor kid wasn’t traumatized enough by our constant moving and our daddy issues,” Dean scoffed.

“Hey, he did say he was okay with us though. And his response was much calmer than I expected. Sam’s a good kid,” Cas began. “You’re lucky that you two are so close. I can tell that he really loves you,” he told Dean, even though he was sure Dean already knew.

“Yeah, well that happens when all you have is each other,” Dean explained. “But you know how that is. You and Anna are pretty close too, right?”

Cas was a little surprised that Dean had remembered his sister’s name. “Yes. Anna is my best friend. She was the first person I told that I was gay. She’s always been very supportive of me,” Cas said, and he couldn’t help but smile when he thought of his sister’s kindness.

“Are you going to tell her about us?” Dean asked suddenly.

Cas’ ears perked up at that. “Wait, does that mean that there really is an ‘us’?” He had hoped that Dean was still interested him after everything that had happened that night, but he wasn’t sure.

Dean swallowed and bit nervously at his bottom lip before responding. “I mean, yeah, I’d like to see you again. I-if, you know, if you’d want,” he started.

“Yes!” Cas interrupted a bit too excitedly. “I mean, yes, I’d definitely like to see you again, too.”

“Oh,” Dean sounded surprised by Cas’ response. “Okay, cool. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Cas suddenly felt like a giddy school girl, but he looked over and noticed a big, stupid grin was plastered on Dean’s face as well. They sat in awkward silence for the rest of the ride, which was only another minute before they made it to Cas’ apartment.

Dean parked in a spot right by the door, but he kept the car running. Cas guessed he was supposed to get out of the car now, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he turned toward Dean.

“I kind of already told her about you,” Cas admitted.

“Who?”

“Anna.”

“What did you say?”

Cas blushed. Here it goes.

“I told her about the first night we met. I told her about meeting you the second night and going to that bakery place at the airport. And I might have admitted to having a crush on you,” Cas confessed.

“Really? You had a crush on me then?” Dean asked.

“Honestly, I think I had a crush on you the moment I met you, but that seemed inappropriate considering you were completely intoxicated and I had no reason to like you besides the fact that you were very attractive. Even though you looked like you were hit by a train, you still looked like a super model. It was very unsettling.”

“Wow, Cas. You have such a way with words,” Dean teased.

“You know what I mean,” he laughed.

Silence fell between them, and Cas took that as his cue to leave. But before he could overthink it, he leaned in and kissed Dean on the cheek.

“Thanks for dinner and, well, everything,” Cas whispered.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Dean promised, and the words made Cas’ heart beat faster.

“Good night, Dean,” he said as he shuffled out of the car.

“Good night, Cas,” Dean replied just before Cas shut the car door. He walked up to the front door of his apartment building, but stopped and turned to watch Dean pull away in the Impala.  

A part of him already missed Dean, and he felt kind of pathetic for it. 


End file.
